


The Flower Shop Queen

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Cliff feeds Rick, Cliff gets bedridden, Cockblocking, Extramarital Affair, Flower Crowns, M/M, Owning a Shop, Post-Canon, Rick feeds Brandy, Sharing a Bed, Tutoring, Valentine's Day, Wedding Daydream, blowjob, flower shop, handjob, shampooing/washing each other, “Showering” together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: After all the press from the hippie attacks, Rick has thought of a way to help keep Cliff employed and keep a relationship with him while still married to Francesca: open a flower shop and become business partners! Rick gets to balance the lives he wants under this cover, but after a blissful period, Cliff starts to realize he's not sure how much longer he can stay satisfied just being at this level of their relationship.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 32
Kudos: 50





	1. A Different Kind of Partner

**Author's Note:**

> So during this quarantine, I binged watched all of Schitt's Creek in about a week and I had this urge to write a shop fic for the boys. Sal_paradise suggested flowers so I ran with that. I thought this was going to be something short and fun but it's gotten long in my mental outline so I'm just going to break it down in chapters.

Cliff sat at the bar at Musso and Frank, sipping his second Bloody Mary as Rick was already twenty minutes late. He knew Rick was working on getting his license reinstated and insisted he didn’t need a ride, but at this point, he thought maybe he should have bucked up having to run into Francesca again. Last time he saw her was after spending a couple months rehabbing at Rick’s after getting his hip stabbed, and she started making it clear he was wearing out his welcome a week in. Cliff couldn’t blame her; you get married and instead of starting a new life you’re nearly murdered and end up taking care of two grown men. Of course, she probably also didn’t expect to see what an emotional wreck her husband truly is. Oh well. He’s her problem now.

After about a half hour, Cliff was about to get up and call Rick’s house when the actor finally came in. “About damn time, man. Get in another accident?”

“No, no, s-sorry. Got into a-another argument with Francesca over drapes. Wants to fucking redo my whole damn house.”

“Well, it is her house too, now. You’re not a bachelor anymore.”

“She wants all my posters down, give the room some color. Shit goes right over my head, who the fuck are we presenting for? I haven’t hosted anything since I’ve been there, Sharon throws all the parties.”

Cliff just shakes his and goes ahead and orders two whiskey sours for Rick, knowing full well that’s already not going to be enough. “So that’s why ya called me all the way out here, to complain about your wife remodeling?”

“Nah, nah. But well, it can kinda relate. So you know how I’ve been having… nightmares and shit? About that whole night?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I didn’t tell you this ‘c-cause I was embarrassed but I-I started seeing a therapist.”

“No shame in that, man. If I could afford one I’d probably have been going for years.”

“Oh yeah?” Rick lights a cigarette and nods his thanks to the bartender as he places the drinks in front of him. “What, from the war?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I don’t blame you. But anyways, guy told me to find a hobby to help relax besides smoking and drinking. So I, uh, might have started gardening a few months ago.”

“No shit? Rick Dalton, gardening. Got a little vegetable garden or something?”

“Flowers. Made the front yard look real nice this past spring after all our press about the fucking hippies died down. Speaking of which, how’s that money holding you up?”

After the ‘incident’, both Rick and Cliff were in hot demand, going even as far as Johnny Carson. They made some money off appearances and Cliff managed to survive best he could off those and what left he had from working for Rick. But still out of work and that well nearly dried up, he was going to have to start worrying soon. “‘Bout gone. Stretched it as best I could but… I guess being a wife murderer still trumps anything good I’ve done.”

“Well then I hope you consider my offer even more than! You know that flower shop near my place, the one you’ve gotten me stuff at?”

“Yeah. Santiago’s. Nice family.”

“Well they want to retire up north and I was thinking of buying the place.”

“All because you started gardening and your wife doesn’t want your shit around? Seems an odd solution for your storage problem.”

“Yeah, but, then I can fucking employ you again! Sell your trailer, move into the loft upstairs they got. Fucking bigger than what you’re already working with. You run the shop, selling and shit. I’ll teach you how to tend to the flowers. Then when I’m away shooting something you can handle it on your own. And yeah, then I can hang all my posters around the place. ‘Dalton & Booth’s Flower Shop.’ We can be a fucking team again.”

Cliff stared long and hard at Rick to make sure he wasn’t high. “You really thought this through, huh?”

“You think it’s stupid, don’t you? Shit. I- forget I said anything.” Rick finally takes a drag from his cigarette and adverts his eyes towards his drink, trying to pretend this wasn’t the only reason he called Cliff here.

“No. It’s fine. I mean, I ain’t in high demand anywhere else. Sure, shit. Why not? Let’s do it.”

Rick perked right up again, giving him a big beaming smile. “Alright, alright. Fuck. We’re going to do this. We’re actually going to do this.”

“Yeah. But the name needs to be changed. I ain’t big enough a name to be up there with Rick fuckin’ Dalton.”

\---

About a month later, Cliff stood outside the doors of a building that read ‘Brandy & Whiskey Flowers’, a name that came to a drunk Rick Dalton in his pool who called Cliff giggling at two in the morning about how ‘whiskey sours' sounded like ‘whiskey flowers’. When Rick was finally sober enough to discuss it, ‘Brandy’ was added just to stand in for Cliff in some way, not to mention her help that night got them to where they are now. 

Rick was running late once again. They would be opening in about a week and Cliff needed to start learning the ropes as well as start moving in so he could finish selling off his trailer. Luckily for Cliff, his favorite bakery where he got his bagels was only about a couple blocks over. And even after walking there and back with a fresh dozen, he still was able to put two away before Rick finally showed up.

“Man. You live less than ten minutes away and I still beat you here and got us breakfast. More lady trouble?”

“Nah, nah. Fucking forgot where I put my keys.”

“Late night in the pool?”

“Shut up.”

Cliff just laughs and shakes his head as he spreads cream cheese on a poppy seed bagel and hands it to Rick. “So I got some of my boxes in the car, just easy to move items. I’ll deal with moving the furniture later.”

“Well… a-about that. I, uh, I m-might of used some of the funds to, uh, get you some new shit..”

Cliff frowned. Not that he was overly attached to any of his furniture, although he would like to keep the couch since that was essentially Brandy’s bed and was already uprooting her enough. ‘You didn’t.”

“Alright, just a bed. That’s all.”

“My cot is fine as is.”

“It damn well isn’t, Cliff! I ain’t having you sleep in that broken down ol’ thing any longer. Not after your hip got fucked up, what if it starts acting up again? No, y-you need s-something comfortable for once. You’re worth it, Cliff.” Rick sniffs a bit trying to hold back his emotions as he bites into his bagel, trying to avoid eye contact.

“You bought me a King, didn’t you?”

“It’s a Queen, I’m not that loaded.”

“A twin or a full would have worked just fine, the room has to cover all my needs.”

“Brandy needs a place to sleep.”

“Got her couch I want to bring over.”

“Fine, I… I…” Another awkward bite of bagel.

“What, you didn’t like sharing my cot?”

“Share? Fucking hell, Cliff. I can’t literally sleep on top of you every night.”

“Every night? Last time I checked you were married and I got a feeling your wife is gonna notice if you’re over here sleeping with me every night. You ever gonna fucking tell her about us or has she figured it out?”

Rick just keeps on eating until his mouth is full so he can’t talk. And Cliff couldn’t be mad; Rick has every right not to spill the beans. Hell, Cliff has always financially dependent on that _not_ happening. Any news that someone is queer and Rick might as well join Cliff’s boat of being unemployable in this town. 

“So. Queen, huh?”

Rick chews a bit more and swallows enough so he can talk again. “Yeah. Wanna go upstairs and try it out?”

“By try it out, do you mean-”

“Yes.”

Cliff smiles and shakes his head as he packs up the rest of the bagels, getting the feeling in his gut this day of preparation was just going to get tossed straight out the window.

\---

Five days later, Cliff was shaking hands with a fellow vetran who bought his trailer and watched him hitch it up and drive away with it. Brandy sat in the back of the car, whimpering as she saw it disappear, wondering where their home was going.

“It’s gonna be alright, girl. Got us a new place. And like the last one, it’s not gonna be the traditional place like Rick’s got but we’ll make it ours. Your couch is already there waiting.”

Cliff pet her head and gave a few ear scratches before sliding in the front seat and took one last look of the old place in. Truth be told, he was going to miss it more than he thought he would. No more nights chilling up on the trailer roof, stealing a watch of a movie over the drive-in fence. Those were what he was going to miss most of all as they were more or less his equivalent to Rick’s pool nights.

Brandy did recognize the flower shop from the special occasions Cliff stopped there to get flowers for Rick and if she was lucky, a treat for herself from the owners who reminisced about having a breed like her in the past. But this time, she was waiting patiently for Cliff as he fumbled around for the keys to open the door in back.

“Alright girl, upstairs. This way.”

It didn’t take long for the familiar scent of the couch to hit Brandy’s nose before she bounded upstairs to the loft. The area was still crowded like the trailer but now spread out into a square instead of a long narrow hall. The couch was on the side closest to the entry to the stairs with unpacked boxes still piled up on half of it and all the way to the corner until Cliff figured out what to do with them, although he had a feeling they might never get unpacked until he needs something. His new bed was tucked away in the corner across from the couch with a simple nightstand next to it. The television was set up on the built in kitchen counter across from it so he’d essentially could only watch while in bed now. As for the ‘kitchen’, Cliff assumed from the past owners this used to be the break room so the cabinets were now half half his clothes, half dishes, utensils, and glasses and just the essential cooking supplies. He had no oven, so unless he finds a camp stove or something, he’d just be working with whatever can be microwaved, refrigerated, or use a toaster oven. And the kitchen sink would have to double as his bathroom sink as the bathroom downstairs wouldn’t be suitable for that. Then there was the makeshift shower he had Rick help him set up in the nursery where Cliff joked that he could just water himself while he watered the plants. 

Not much, but as long as Cliff’s basic needs were covered, he could live anywhere.

“You’re gonna have to be spending your time up here while the shop is open. But at least I ain’t gotta drive all the way across town just to check on ya any more so that’s something.”

Brandy just barks in reply as she settles down on the couch. Well, at least she seemed to be doing alright.

Cliff heads downstairs and closes off the entryway with an ‘Employees Only’ sign before heading out into the main sales area where the decorating was all Rick’s doing. All his posters for any film or show that Francesca was not also in found its way to the store walls. Even his saddle was on display in the corner he guessed sorta like a photo op. But if you’d walked into this store without any knowledge, the last thing you’d think this place was was a flower shop.

Still, they were more fortunate than most that they were taking over a business and rebranding so they had the inventory to get up and running. Cliff would probably be in charge of that; maybe he should have thought this through better before realizing how much of the work he’d have to take on with Rick always one phone call away from being whisked away for fuck who knows long. But Rick didn’t want to hire anyone else, and deep down, neither did Cliff. He wanted something he and Rick could share together and share alone. And if that meant biting off more than he could chew, so be it.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Cliff mutters to himself, leaning behind the counter and looking around, getting used to the view that he knew was going to be his for the majority of the day for the foreseeable future. Finally, he sees Rick pull into the space in front of the shop and listens for the little jingle of the bell when he walks in the door. 

“Third time I’ve beaten you here. What was the problem this time?”

“Shit, I-I-I overslept. Was out late in the pool a-again.”

“Well. Guess it’s time you finally showed me how to deal with these flowers here.”

Rick gave a genuine smile; the guy really took to this hobby if just mentioning it seemed to light him up. “Right, out back. Going to show you the ropes on how to tend to them while I’m not around out on a trip and then we’ll make a bouquet. Come on, then.”

Cliff honestly hadn’t stepped back outside into the nursery since they set up his shower back there. The amount of flowers frankly overwhelmed him. His only real experience with them was buying them for dates, holidays that guilt you into buying them, or because he wanted make-up sex. But he’s never tended to anything that delicate in his life. Unless, of course, you count Rick. Actually yeah, count Rick; some days Cliff is just amazed the man hasn’t blasted his brains out already.

Rick took Cliff through the basics for the first of Cliff can freely admit will most likely be many times, as even after all that only a third of the information seemed to stick. But Cliff was hoping that Rick would be in and out enough to take care of that side of the business that he’ll only be needed once in a while. The help with creating orders though? He’s probably going to be stuck making most of them.

“So when people order what they want you’re just going to gather and arrange them. If they don’t know what they want, we can suggest color schemes that compliment each other nicely. Like maybe some yellow daffodils and purple crocuses…” Rick was more talking to himself than directly at Cliff, and Cliff had to admit, watching Rick be so knowledgeable about something he had no idea about and talk about it with such enthusiasm was so endearing. Maybe the therapist did the right thing by turning Rick onto gardening as a happy Rick meant an even happier Cliff.

“... and there! Isn’t it lovely?”

“Mmmhmm…”

“Jesus, Cliff. Were you even paying the slightest fucking bit of attention?”

“To you, yeah. You’re adorable when you get all enthusiastic about something you really like doing.”

“I-uh… I…” Rick just huffs and blushes as he wraps his bouquet in cellophane and ties a bow around it. “N-now you try d-doing one.”

Cliff looks around at his options. Rick said pick colors that compliment each other? Well, it’s not like he was great in that department as his own sense of fashion was throw on whatever smelled the least. Finally he settles on making a dozen white roses with one red one in the middle. “There?”

“The hell, did you even try?”

“I thought of it as a blood stain on white cloth.”

“Cliff, who the fuck is going to want something like that to give to someone??”

“Alright. How about the rose represents the heart?” Cliff rearranges so the red rose is on the upper left side more. “Better?”

Rick rubs his face trying to get a grasp on Cliff’s train of thought. “I think… best I be doing the arrangements for the time being.”


	2. A Lesson in Fractions & Flower Crowns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went by the twitter madness a month ago that had the boys birth and death dates and Cliff was listed as 1926 at the time so I’m just rolling with the idea he tried to enlist young and that’s why he is the way he is.

Opening day brought out more fanfare than Cliff had anticipated, but it was no Disneyland opening day level of chaos so that was a good thing at least. Of course, the draw was that Rick would be there to cut the ribbon and for photo ops, right by that saddle like Cliff had predicted. Rick had spent all day yesterday making several pre-arrange bouquets themed after some of his characters as easy grab-and-go for people more interested in just saying they were there and maybe wanted something to remember the day. It was no surprise to Cliff that the “Sgt. Mike Lewis” was the most popular as that damn flamethrower more or less got them this place, with the brightest reds, oranges, and yellows tied up in black cellophane to represent it. The “Jake Cahill” with two orange tiger lilies in a sea of morning glories was his personal favorite, mainly because Rick did let him help with that one and if it wasn’t for Jake Cahill, they probably would have never crossed paths.

“What a day. What a fucking day, goddamn,” Rick laughs as right at five he shuts and locks the door, flipping the sign to ‘CLOSED’ and shutting the blinds. “Don’t think I saw you without a customer on the register until the last fifteen minutes.”

“Hardly notice.” Cliff did notice; he never discussed it with Rick because he always felt he had to be this almost untouchable godlike figure to make Rick constantly think everything is going to be alright, but Cliff didn’t think he’d struggled so much with something in his whole life with something as simple as making change. He blames that on never finishing highschool; ever since he got back from the war, he often felt the lack of getting that education held him back and led to nights in jail and no real direction in life. It was almost a blessing when Korea called him back over to the only job he knew how to do and do well, until once again, he found himself right back where he was. _This is why you don’t lie that you’re 18 when you’re 15 just to go off and kill Nazis._

“Why don’t you go pick us up some burgers, I’m going to get started on counting the money for the day.” Rick pulls out some money out of the cash register and hands it to Cliff, making a note of it in his accounting books and takes the tray upstairs to Cliff’s room. Since all of the break room was essentially Cliff’s living quarters, the bed Rick had so generously bought him has turned into Rick’s office and their dining table besides the usual sleeping and fucking that one time to christen it. And when Cliff returned with dinner in hand, he found Rick sitting up, legs crossed, mouth slanted as he kept going over and over the numbers. “We’re 11.52 short.”

“You counted the money you gave me for dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Double check the math.”

“I’ve triple checked.”

“Well, I’ve been on the register all day without a break, no one stole it.”

“And you did your math right when doing transactions?”

“Well… I thought I did.”

“Thought?”

“I…” Cliff scratches his head trying to think of the best way to explain this. “Look, math was never my strongest subject in school.”

“Well it wasn’t my favorite but at least you took it?”

“You know I dropped out of high school to join the war, I ain’t finished.”

“Well that’s what, a few months you missed? You could always go back and finish.”

“Try about two and a half years unfinished.”

“Jesus. Cliff. I had just assumed you joined when you turned eighteen. Like you were suppose to fucking do.”

“Man, there wasn’t anything holding me at home or school, I was eager to be a man already. And shit, you know how I feel about bullies picking on the weak for no good fucking reason. I would have personally killed Hitler myself if he didn’t go up in flames in that theater.”

It occured to Rick maybe this whole thing was a dumb idea, completely indulgent and impulsive on his part that maybe he should consider getting help. But then what could Cliff do? If he’s not comfortable with money, isn’t the greatest with the flowers, what else was there for him? Maybe deep down he only took this on as an excuse to keep Cliff around in some form like he’s been so desperate to do for the past year. But he can’t own a business just to use it to have more or less an affair. “Maybe this was a mistake. We sh-should just quit while a-ahead. Stupid i-i-idea.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not comfortable with any of this, are you? I-I should have made sure that you were first, instead of being so self-centered.”

“I’m willing to try, Rick. Look. Why don’t you tutor me? I always helped you learn lines, you just help me learn the math to get by, alright? And flower care might take me a few tries but I’ll get it. We’re going to make this work, man. Come hell or high water, it’s going to work.”

Rick smiles softly, tears starting to brim. “I’m so lucky I got to know you. All thanks to my old stunt double breaking a leg and needing a replacement.”

“Yes, I’m thankful he broke his leg, too. Now eat up. Fries are getting cold.”

\---

Business evened out after that first day so it was much more manageable for Cliff. There were still a few times when he’d be slow getting the change out if there was a small rush during the day but he swore to himself he’d be the best damn cashier Rick had ever seen when he was through. If there was no one to help, he’d sometimes pull out a few bills and practice making change for whatever number popped into his head at random.

Rick did his part and found some math practice books that he had to do some digging to get a hold of. Anyone who didn’t know who Rick Dalton was would probably have jokingly asked ‘Kid struggling in school?’ when he checked out with them, but unfortunately for Rick, they knew and knew he didn’t have kids. (“It’s not for me. It’s for a friend.” - “Sure, whatever you say, pal.”)

“You know, you fucking owe me,” Rick grumbles to Cliff as he tosses the workbooks at him where he’s lying on the bed, Brandy right next to him. As soon as she learned that Cliff’s bed was bigger, she moved herself from that couch right next to him. Unless, of course, Rick showed up and then she knew she’d be at the foot of the bed until he left.

“Hey, you’re the damn smartest person I know, I can vouch for that. I ain’t gonna let anyone say shit about you being a dunce, I’ll gladly own that title.”

“Well crack it open. I’m gonna check on the flowers and I’ll be back to see how you did.”

Cliff just nods and watches him go as he pulls a pen off his nightstand and looks at the first page. _Easy, Cliff. Take your time. No rush. You’ve done fractions before. About thirty years ago but still, you’ve done them._

The guy was pretty pleased with himself that although he was slow, he still finished before Rick was back to check his answers that he tried to start on the next section about percentages. But he only got done with three before Rick came back with a few of the ‘Jake Cahill’ bouquets that were starting to wilt and some wire.

“All done?”

“That and then some.”

Rick smiles and takes the book from him, double checking with the answers in back. “Eh. You got 6/10 right. But I can tell where you made your mistakes, let me show you.”

Cliff always got the feeling that the average person who only saw Rick as a diva prone to outbursts never got a sense of how smart Rick truly was. He’s seen those glimpses in the past when Rick deep dives into researching a role or when he’s listening into Rick’s conversations with others. Maybe because he was usually around meatheads but intellect looked good on Rick and boy, did it do things to him. So watching Rick explain to him the correct method was a challenge in that he was trying his best to learn, but fuck, did he just want to toss that book away and just, well… _fuck._

“You get all that?”

“Hmm… yeah…all of it…” Cliff mumbles as he leans in and just starts kissing and nipping at his partner’s neck, hand pressing around the small of his back once he hears Rick moaning softly.

“Jesus, Cliff. Y-y-you weren’t l-listening.”

“Yeah, I was.”

‘Well then, this ain’t going any fucking further until you prove it.” Rick pushes him away, tears a blank sheet out of his own notebook and makes up ten more problems. 

“Ya know, usually parents bribe their kids with other things when they want them to do well in school.”

“Well I ain’t your parents and I know what you’re willing to work for. Get to it.” Rick gets a proper pencil for Cliff to work with this time so he can show all his work and can erase if he needs to.

“Right, mom,” Cliff smirks as he’s met with a light smack on the shoulder before he looks down at the problems Rick gave him. But he’s distracted once again when Rick nudges Brandy over to make room for himself, sets up his crafting supplies on his lap and casually leans against him. “You know, this ain’t gonna help me learn, you being this close to be and all.”

“No, but I can keep an eye on you and call you out as I go.”

“Fair enough.” Cliff tries to concentrate and makes it through the first one without Rick commenting so he just assumes it’s right and continues to the second. Same situation and he moves on to the third. Finally by the fourth, he sees what’s taking shape in Rick’s hands that takes his attention away from the numbers. ‘The hell are you making, anyways?”

“Flower crown.”

“Ain’t that a hippie thing?”

Rick growls a bit, clearly offended. “Fucking hippies didn’t invent them. My mother made them all the time back home as a hobby, usually for church holidays and the occasional wedding, and she’d let me help if my father wasn’t around. Can’t sell products starting to wilt but they are still nice enough. And I was most fond of our ‘Jake Cahill’.”

“Me too.”

Cliff wasn’t going to ask why Rick had an interest in making flower crowns or couldn’t make them if his father was home as it might bring up a mental collapse of self-deprecation. _”Fuck, Cliff. I’m such a f-f-faggot for doing this, right? Fucking hippies and queers do this shit. Hell, owning a flower sh-shop is the queerest thing we could do, we-we should s-s-sell.”_ Yeah, Cliff didn’t need that right now.

Cliff was so focused on finishing these problems that by the time he got to the last problem, he barely noticed the soft plop on his head of Rick putting the flower crown on him. However, he did feel the weight of Rick’s head on his shoulder, his attention now full on Cliff’s work. “How’s it going?”

“Finish and you’ll see.”

Fuck, now Cliff was self-doubting himself. He finished the problem, double checked everything, even changed a couple he thinks he caught mistakes in. Again, Rick said nothing until he gave him the notice he was all done.

“You passed.’

“Thank fucking god.” Cliff did exactly what he wanted to and tossed that book and paper aside, rolling over on top of Rick and picking up right where he left off, kissing and nipping Rick’s throat at a feverish pace.

“W-w-wait, Cliff! D-don’t d-d-damage my crown!”

Cliff had completely forgotten about admiring Rick’s handiwork. Reluctantly, he sits up so he’s straddling Rick’s legs, takes the crown off to admire. “Shit, Rick. It’s actually fucking beautiful.”

“Don’t f-f-flatter me just because your pants are tight.”

“Shit, I ain’t lying, man. Told you it’s my favorite bouquet. You can barely tell some of them are wilting. Ever thought of selling these?”

Rick blushed at the thought of that, but shakes his head. “They can’t know it’s me making them. Too qu-queer. Or worse, think I’m a hippie.”

“Say Francesca made them.”

The disheartened sigh nearly broke Cliff’s heart. “Rick. These are really good. You obviously enjoy making them, and I think they could sell well for birthday parties or weddings or shit, who else knows when people would want them but people would. Of course the hippies would eat them up. I’ll wear it just for the hell of it.” Cliff proudly put it back on and saw a smile break on Rick’s face.

“Alright. I-I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, good plan. Now where were we?”

“Mmm ‘bout to reward you for a goddamn good job.”

Now Cliff really knew Rick was in a good mood if he was starting to act playful in these situations as opposed to listing every excuse why they shouldn’t. And watching Rick do a slow strip tease in unbuttoning his shirt made Cliff lick his teeth with realizing it. “Boy, you hurry up or ain’t gonna last much longer.”

“You know you can fucking help out if you’re that desperate.”

Cliff didn’t need to be asked twice. He gets Rick’s belt off almost instantly and starts undoing his pants, getting them down just low enough to see that there was clearly a strain forming in Rick’s underwear. “My, my. I ain’t the only one then.”

“Sh-shut up and get ‘em off.”

“Nah. I got you right where I want you.” Cliff gives him that wolfish grin with a twinkle in his eye as he just starts nuzzling and nipping at him through the cloth. Rick is practically mewling, taking the flower crown off Cliff and setting it on the nightstand so he can just let his hands run wild through Cliff’s hair. Eventually enough of a tent forms for Cliff to start sucking a bit before using his tongue to slip in through the slit in Rick’s boxers to finally lick flesh. 

“JESUS CHRIST!”

Cliff chuckles as he keeps using his tongue to finally free Rick out of his restraints before taking him all in. Almost instinctively as they were in his mind in a public place, Rick closes his eyes and covers his mouth to keep quiet. The only sounds he could hear were his own muffled breathing, Cliff’s mouth working him, the knocking at the entrance door, Francesca’s accent calling from outside, Brandy’s snor-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _FUCK!_!” Rick whispered harshly as he shoves Cliff off with such a force that completely stunned the stuntman as he starts trying to shove himself back into his pants. “G-go get the d-d-door!”

Cliff has been too focused to realize Francesca was downstairs until he finally heard her. “Well shit.”

“GO GET IT!” Rick was now buttoning his shirt back up like his life depended on it, which, in a way, it did. 

Cliff hoped Rick knew what he was doing, but he went downstairs and greeted Francesca like an old friend rather than the person who just cockblocked him. She was even excited to see him, giving him a hug with one hand with a bottle of champagne in the other. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“I finally landed a leading role after all these months here trying to break in. I couldn’t wait until Rick got home, I wanted to surprise him. He knows how hard I’ve been trying for this part.”

“Well he’s upstairs finishing his work, you can go see him.” At least he hoped Rick was ready for her as he flashes her a grin and jabs his thumb back in the direction of the stairs. Cliff watches her go, not wanting to follow and watch any of what the two of them might be doing as he turns his attention to restocking shelves for tomorrow. Finally after about ten minutes, Rick comes downstairs holding Francesca’s hand, now wearing the flower crown Rick made.

Cliff felt his gut ache. 

“Gonna take my lady out to dinner to celebrate. Wish to join us?”

“Yes, Cliff. You’re more than welcomed.”

The fact that Francesca was encouraging it somehow made it all worse. “Nah, I should finish stocking or else I’m gonna forget. Nice flower crown, looks good on ya.”

“Thank you! My husband is so thoughtful to make this for me, it’s lovely darling.”

Cliff felt like he was going to be sick.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, partner.” Rick smiles and claps Cliff’s shoulder before heading out with Francesca on his arm looking like a couple in love and driving off into in sunset

“Well, ol’ buddy. Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” Cliff says, staring at his hand, trying desperately to not let the emotions win.


	3. BBQ & Wedding Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a great week for my back to lock up right when I had the time to type. Anyways, something short until I get to the chiropractor again.

The thing Cliff hated most about Francesca was the fact that he didn’t hate her at all. Besides being attractive, she was actually smart and funny to boot, and even though she seemed annoyed when Cliff was stuck with them for those first couple months he still didn’t mind her. Sure, she probably jumped at Rick’s proposal more because he could give her opportunities in Hollywood than actually being in love with him. But there were days where Cliff wondered if it was all an act on her part or if she really was falling for him, and those were the times when Cliff actually felt guilt about this whole affair.

Francesca’s film kept her busy leaving Rick more time at the flower shop to really get Cliff to where he was comfortable running things on his own. Once Rick saw Cliff was actually starting to get the hang of flower arranging and had his cashiering skills up to par, he left Cliff the test of running the place by himself for the day while visiting Francesca on set. Rick was relieved when he pulled up after closing time to see the building had not been burned down and that all the money was accounted for.

“Was it busy today or did you get off the hook with hardly anyone?”

“There was a rush of some people wanting some patriotic orders for the 4th of July next week. Didn’t know that was much of a flower holiday.”

“Well it’s kinda fucking easy to assemble. Someone wants flowers just because, you already know the fucking color scheme. Probably big barabaques, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, a few of those. A couple of people with that as a birthday.”

“Shit, imagine being stuck with that as your birthday and you already know what color flowers you’re getting each year.”

Cliff had counted all the money but Rick did a double check to make sure. “Ah, man. You did it. Thank fuck, I-I was worried I’d have to hi-hire someone else to make sure you’re doing alright.”

“Told you I was gonna do what I can to make sure it’s just us running the joint.”

“Well that’s great because, uh, Francesca and I are going out of town for the 4th. She’s gonna be filming for a few days up in Temecula and we’re gonna spend it up there. Show her some wineries. That kind of shit.”

“So no annual barbeque at the ol’ Dalton residence?”

“Not this year, buddy.”

Both men sounded equally disappointed. Ever since Rick bought his house, he hosted a private barbeque on the 4th of just him, Cliff, and Brandy once she came alone. Granted this consisted of Rick floating in the pool while Cliff was on the grill all day cooking but it had become tradition. Not to mention Rick had a pretty good view of some distant fireworks that it could always just be them watching together in this intimate setting, especially since they got more into cuddling during the shows the past couple years.

“Well. Guess I could find another party to crash.”

“Could always go to Sharon’s. We were invited but can’t make it if you want something to do.”

“Nah, it’s not my crowd without you chaperoning me. You two go have fun, Brandy and I will find something to do.”

The following week leading up to the holiday didn’t help Cliff’s mood with Francesca popping in now and then with a list of the best wineries to visit and excitedly telling him about the honeymoon suite Rick got them. But all he could do was smile and say he was happy for them because there was no other choice. When they finally left on the 2nd, Cliff was more relieved than disappointed at that point.

At least until the last minute holiday rush came in on the 3rd. If there was ever a time to prove to Rick he was capable of this it was now. And when the store closed and all the money was accounted for, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. Man, he wished Rick was here to see it.

A knock on the door around the six set him on alert, but he looked outside to see a delivery man with a couple large packages. Did Rick order something and forget to tell him to wait for it? Nope, it was addressed to him alright. Did he order something and forget?

Cliff waited until the delivery guy was gone and proceeded to open the tall box first where he was met with a shiny new barbeque. He checked the invoice to see if there was a note.

_Thought you and Brandy could use it for the holiday. Sorry I ain’t there to spend it with you guys. Just use it out back away from the fucking flowers._

_Love you._

_-R_

“That son of a bitch,” Cliff smiled sadly to himself. Rick wanted to make sure he still had something to do but not much of a point if Rick wasn’t there as well. And when he saw that the second box was a whole freezer worth of meats of every kind to grill, he wondered what the hell he was going to do with this?

After a few phone calls around, he managed to reach out to a few local veterans who like him had nowhere to go or spend the holiday with. That 4th of July afternoon was spent in front of the grill once again like he’s grown accustomed to, except instead of in the privacy of Rick’s backyard it was out in the parking lot of their shop. And in Rick’s place was a dozen or so veterans who came in and out for a few hours, swapping war stories, complaining about failed relationships, and a few talking about those damn fucking hippies in a way Cliff knew Rick would full heartedly agree with.

And yet, even with more people to mingle with than he had in some time, Cliff still felt lonely. The war was the only thing he had in common with these men. He had been so ingrained in the film industry this past decade just by being around Rick that he almost felt foreign to these guys living normal lives. And the kicker is he was even poorer than some of them despite being part of this untouchable world of Hollywood. And while he’s had his share of stories with the ladies to tell, he could see right away none of them swung the other way in the slightest. He wasn’t sure why that was important unless deep down he was hoping to not be alone in bed tonight as he’s gotten used to some ‘fireworks’ after watching the real ones the past few years. 

_I feel so alone...._

Fuck. Finally saying that to himself was almost freeing. 

\---

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, in Cliff’s case), they had opened shop right at the start of wedding season so they missed the opportunity to get any wedding orders in as they were snatched up by other florists at this point. Finally they got something for one in early September for a small gathering down at Wayfarers Chapel in Rancho Palos Verdes. Lots of flower crowns. Fucking hippie wedding, alright. 

Cliff never mastered the flower crowns like Rick could despite Rick letting him have a go at a few, but he’d rather watch Rick do the work anyways. There was something so gentle and caring in the way Rick crafted them. It was a far cry from the Rick on set when shit isn’t going his way, that’s for sure. And after each one, Cliff would let Rick model them on him, making sure each one was perfect. This became enough of a routine that Rick would snap a picture of Cliff wearing each one to put in a book for people to look through if they wished to order a particular one. Cliff assumed people probably just thought Cliff was modeling because they were the only two in the store and no women to show it off. They didn’t know that after each picture there was always a kiss and sometimes more if Rick didn’t have to be home right away. 

The order was small enough that they could put it all in the trunk and back seat of the Cadillac and enjoy the scenic ride along PCH through the beach cities of the South bay until turning off onto Palos Verdes Blvd and quickly on to Palos Verdes Drive. Cliff rarely came down this way but he never got far enough to experience the winding curving roads following along the peninsula’s coast. He knew Marineland was down this way but thought it would be too touristy. Now he regrets not coming sooner. 

Eventually they passed Point Vicente Lighthouse and Marineland right after the other and found the turn off for Wayfarer’s not much further. The Lloyd Wright designed stone and glass chapel that blended into the natural setting of a grove of redwoods was such a sight to behold that Cliff wondered why he hadn’t heard of anyone else getting married here other than that one time he read that Mickey Hargitay and Jayne Mansfield did a dozen or so years ago. 

“Alright, I-I’m gonna find the couple. You alright to start unloading some?”

“Can do.”

Rick was the face of the company and the talker between the two of them so Cliff didn’t mind in the slightest if he was just the grunt today. The crowns and bouquets were just a couple trips between the hall to deliver and then just a few floral arrangements for the chapel itself. He let the people setting up inside take over as he sat in the last pew and took in all the hustle and bustle while he waited for Rick.

Cliff didn’t get a proper wedding with Billie. He wasn’t even sure you could call it eloping as it didn’t even have that romantic notion of secretly running off to do it out of love. It was more of a drunken ‘why the fuck not?’ moment of impaired judgement. That loneliness he needed filling even back then. But even if they did do it right, he couldn’t see Billie getting married here; this place felt too innocent for her. For him.

And yet, he could easily see Rick up there. Handsome in his tuxedo, nervous as hell. Cliff assumed Rick was like that when he married Francesca since he wasn’t there to see it. They had also eloped without telling him but Cliff felt that Rick did that more to spare him from having to witness it, and for that, Cliff was actually grateful. There was no telling how he would have kept composed, hell, he barely did when Rick told him he couldn’t afford him anymore. The awkward slurping of his drink still rang clearly in his ears as Rick tried his best to change the subject to something other than the heartbreak they both just went through. Even though they were still seeing each other, Cliff couldn’t erase the scar on his heart from that day.

“Ready to go?”

Cliff’s thoughts were interrupted as he looked up to see Rick standing above him. “Yeah, almost. Why don’t you sit for a bit? This place is beautiful.”

“Huh. It kinda is now that I see it.” 

Cliff scoots over to let Rick sit down on the end. He had to keep the temptation to wrap and arm around his shoulder at bay as he just locked his fingers and kept his hands folded in his lap. “So you get any tips?”

“Would you get married here, Cliff?”

Well that wasn’t the answer he expected. 

“It’s beautiful, man. Small. Intimate. The trees, the ocean view. The salty sea air. Yeah, I would. Why?”

“Maybe Francesca and I should have a proper wedding.”

 _You honestly thought he was going to propose just now. Don’t lie._ “Probably. Would I be invited this time?”

“No.”

Cliff didn’t push it because he knew why. It was the same damn reason as last time. “Would you want me to invite you if I ever got married here?”

 _Only if I’m invited to be up there by the fucking altar with you._ “No.”

“Alright.”

They sat there a little while longer lost in the same thoughts that they knew the other was also having. The color schemes were different and Rick’s vision as a whole had a little more flair to it, but the important things were the same. Jay and Sharon were there, that was it. They were the only two who knew and the only two who would be genuinely happy for them. The rings they both knew Cliff would want something simple, Rick’s more detailed and maybe a couple jewels. Neither changed ‘bride’ to ‘husband’ in this daydream insisting it was a bit of an inside joke to how like a wife Cliff had been to him, even though the ‘wife’ was the one leading the kiss and trying to pick up his husband to carry outside into the sunset. It was perfect. Too perfect…

“I-I-I Cliff… I want to go.”

Cliff could see Rick’s eyes and we're starting to redden as tears threaten to fall. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

Somehow Rick managed to avoid a total breakdown even as they started the ride home. They didn’t say anything to each other about what they went through just now, opting to just enjoy the ride along the Pacific and Cliff had to make a note to himself to explore again later, probably without Rick. And as soon as he thought that, he felt the gentle weight of Rick’s hand on his leg. A soft smile crossed his lips only to erase just as quickly when he took a glance down and saw the ring that wasn’t his on the other man’s finger. The reminder that he was sharing Rick, and it was the kind of sharing a dog getting scraps under the table in secret was. 

Cliff was relieved he had his aviators on as it was now him trying to fight back the tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live about twenty minutes from Wayfarer's but I've never physically gone, just driven by it seen it in TV shows and such. But it is gorgeous af so check it out in this video; I know I will make a note to go in person once this madness dies down.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxJ1g30NbQI


	4. The Queen Will Be Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was... a very weird weekend. It's like my dad went rogue and next thing I knew I was at my sister's against my will and she's a nurse so I'm legit worried about being force into a situation where she hasn't been tested yet. So who knows if I caught the virus because my dad clearly no longer cares! But anyways, this is just a short bridge until I get up to the chapter I've been waiting to do which jfc praying I stay well enough to do.

Cliff hated Queens. He didn’t want to tell Rick that when he bought it since he couldn’t take an emotional collapse when they were trying to get a business off and running but all they did was bring up horrible memories.

He only ever had one, and that was with Billie. The only good thing to come out of it was the sex, but even after awhile that started to disappear and replace with tension and berating. No, Cliff preferred a bed just made for one. It made him feel less lonely than having the large empty space beside him and a reminder that he only just had to worry about himself in the end. 

The fall was a bit of a slow down at the shop except for the birthdays and anniversaries as no one was really out there buying Halloween flowers. But seeing as Rick was picking up a few more gigs or showing face with Francesca as her star started to rise, it was probably for the best that he wasn’t overwhelmed. Soon it got to be where Rick went from coming in every day to maybe twice a week, and this shop was really starting to feel more like his own than a partnership. 

And the empty space on that damn queen only just seemed to grow.

\---

Cliff was surprised to learn that Christmas was a busy time to buy flowers but he guessed some people were just lazy in gift giving when going to their parents’ or giving to a party host. Whatever, business was business and more orders meant Rick had to make time to swing by more often. Plus Francesca was off doing press for her movie so it’s not like Rick had to make up excuses like usual.

“So she’s really getting a hang of this Hollywood, huh?”

Rick grunted a bit. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t the slightest bit jealous that he spent nearly a decade trying to make it in film and his wife has only been here a little over a year and was suddenly getting offers left and right. It was safe to say Francesca Capucci was now known as Francesca Capucci and not Rick Dalton’s wife who was nearly murdered by some hippie fuckers.

“I’m happy for her. It’s why she came, right?”

“Why, you don’t think she came because she was actually in love with me, huh?” There was a bitterness in Rick’s voice, and Cliff couldn’t tell if he was mad at him or the situation.

“Do you want her to be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“But you want everyone to love you.”

“I-I just want everyone to l-like me. But I was hoping if I had to be married that person would love me. Like you do.”

“And who said I love you? Woah, woah, slow down, man. I was kidding. Of course I do.” Cliff worried there when he saw the flash of panic on Rick’s face and had to do damage control right away. 

“I just… I just hate wishing I-I-I was here all the time.”

“Even over acting?”

Rick got quiet. It has crossed his mind on more than one occasion to leave acting forever and go full time into this business. He always thought his career was his passion, the only thing he had to live for. But he slowly learned the past couple years that he’d trade it all away in a heartbeat if it meant he could be with Cliff the way he wanted them to be. But alas, the social climate wasn’t friendly about this sort of thing.

“Yeah. Even more that. I mean my wife is soon gonna be more famous than me. That seems like a wake up call, huh?”

“Well if you ever decide, that queen will be waiting for you.”

\---

1971 felt like it was going to be Cliff’s year. He didn’t know why, but as he watched the ball drop on his television, Brandy curled up beside him in bed, something inside told him this was going to be a good one. But then again, he felt that way about 1941.

A week later, it seemed like it was already coming true.

“So. Francesca finally decided what film she’s taking next and it’s going to require her to shoot in New York for about a month.”

“Have fun. Say ‘hi’ to the Statue of Liberty for me, alright?”

“Shit, man. I work. I can’t go back there. And fuck, she’s gonna be gone right over Valentine’s and that’s when you’re really gonna need my fucking help.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying. She’s gone. I’ll be alone.”

“Not moving into your place, man. It’s your guys’ home now.”

“Alright. Then I’m fucking moving in here.”

Cliff couldn’t help but chuckle. No way in hell Rick was gonna last a week let alone a month living in this tiny loft. The one three days he spent in a row was almost too much for him, his biggest complaint being that he couldn’t get a decent shower. Plus there was no pool for him to run away to when life got too rough for him. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna hate it like last time.”

“I can just go home and shower after work. I’ll probably have to pop in there when Francesca wants to give me a call anyways so she doesn’t know I’m sleeping here. We can make this work.”

“You know what would be even easier? Just tell her the damn truth.”

“Fuck, Cliff. You know I-I can’t.”

“Shit, she’ll probably save you the trouble and find someone else and ask you for the divorce.”

“I-I don’t w-want a divorce!”

“But if it's her doing it, why does that look suspicious on your end?”

“Because if I give in too easy then it fucking will!”

“Rick. Are you happy living like this?”

“I-...Cliff, s-stop.”

“Are you happy? Because I’ll be honest, man. I’m tired of sharing. I’m tired of waking up in that damn queen alone. I’m tired of being your mistress. And if you’re also tired, then why the hell are we still doing this?”

Rick was rubbing his face trying to calm down and keep his emotions in check. He wanted to run back home to his pool where he could just float and be safe from everything. Well, alright, maybe he wasn’t that safe that one time when the fucking hippie girl came crashing through but in normal circumstances, no one could touch him out there and he could just be alone with his thoughts. A pool was a weird safety blanket to have, but it was his.

“I’m n-not happy, Cliff.”

“Alright.”

“But. I just. Can we just see how this month goes first? As a trial run?”

“What, you think you’re gonna choose Francesca over me still? Or is the bigger home that much more important than who you share your space with?” Cliff knew Rick always cared far more about possessions than he did, but even Cliff was hoping Rick at least knew that Cliff wouldn’t be replaceable.

“Trial run. Make it worth it.”

“That won’t be hard. I already know I’m all you need.”


	5. That Goddamn Hip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is proof that I have no control over these muses as I think 90% is not what I planned to write, it just went off on it's own with the whole hip thing. Oi.

Cliff had two weeks to make this loft suitable for Rick to live in. The main complaints Rick always made from time to time was how Cliff never finished unpacking and was using the kitchen cabinets as a dresser. And it occurred to Cliff that maybe if he got a dresser to fill the space the moving boxers were occupying and put the box contents in the kitchen drawers, all would be solved. So one night after he closed up shop and knew Rick wouldn’t be stopping buy, he decided to go furniture shopping on his own. Whatever’s cheapest and fits, that’s all that matters. 

Of course, Cliff was a stubborn old dog who thought he could push it upstairs by himself as he was set on surprising Rick. But the pain from his hip wound suddenly flared up again as he was nearing the top, and he had to bite his lip to push through it until he finally made it.

“Shit, goddamnit.”

Brandy looked concerned as Cliff stumbled forward onto the bed, groaning and rubbing at this spot. This happened now and then but it’s been a good month since he last agitated that Cliff thought he was finally in the clear. 

“I’ll be fine, darling. I was just being stupid. Won’t do that again, I promise.”

Cliff petted her until she finally calmed down and passed out himself not long after.

\---

“Cliff. CLIFF! Come on, goddamnit, wake the hell up!”

Cliff could hear the voice in the distance calling him, but he didn’t want to respond. Finally he felt the shaking and that’s when he finally opened his eye to see Rick standing above him. “Oh, hey. What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour? Cliff, we open in half an hour.”

“Hmmm? Oh. Well shit then. Guess I passed out last night.”

“Were you fucking high?”

“Do I wish. I-” _Choose your words carefully, Booth. Don’t let him know it’s your hip._ “- was pushing that dresser upstairs and it wore me out. Wanted to surprise you but guess I didn’t finish setting up in time.”

“Finally decided to join civilized society, huh? Thank fucking god.” And without being told to, Rick started moving the boxes to the side and pushed the dresser back into the corner. “Ah yeah, much better.”

“Why don’t you move my clothes for me while you’re at it.”

“You can do it later. Come on, we gotta get set up for the day.” Rick playfully smacked Cliff right on the hip not realizing the shock wave it just sent through Cliff’s body by how wide Cliff’s eyes had gotten. Cliff waited until Rick was downstairs before allowing himself to scream silently into the pillow.”

\---

“You’ve been looking stiff all day. You feeling alright?”

“Told you. Moving that damn dresser wore me out.”

Cliff had been doing the best he could to manage the pain. Last thing he wanted to do was go to the hospital again and have Rick worry about him. “So what time is Francesca leaving tomorrow?”

“Oh, ‘bout noon, I think. I’ll be on set so she’s gotta take a cab in. And I’ll need you to mind the shop by yourself in the morning.”

“And when are you bringing your luggage by?”

“Shit, I gotta pack. I-I’ll do that after wrap for the day, go home, grab my shit. Grab us some dinner. And then…I’m all yours.” 

Cliff bit his lip and the rather out of character sultry look Rick was giving him. Or maybe he was just imagining him looking like that. He couldn’t tell; he was just waiting for Rick to leave at this point so he could go rest his hip and get out of this without Rick finding out. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Mmm so what plans do you have in mind for tomorrow?”

 _Plans? What plans? What is happening?_ “Rick you feeling alright?”

“Cliff, shit, you’re swaying and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

“I’m not swaying, the hell are you-”

 _THUNK_.

“Goddamnit.”

\---

Cliff never pleads. Begs. Cry for mercy. But lord, did he ever with Rick to not call the ambulance again. He’s been waiting for months (and he assumed Rick as well) for this time alone together, and come hell or high water, he was going to not spend a minute of it cooped up in the hospital. And luckily for him, Rick seemed to be in the same mindset.

Suddenly putting the living quarters upstairs seemed like a bad idea as Rick did his best to help Cliff get back to bed. Cliff stayed conscious enough for Rick to get his clothes off and tuck him into bed, bring enough water to hydrate him and an empty vase for him to use as a makeshift chamberpot.

“Shit, I need you to feed Brandy too while you’re at it.”

“Oh, uh. S-sure.” Rick knew Cliff had this whole routine with Brandy because he complained to him how long it takes as Cliff always suddenly has to do it right as they are getting in the mood. Cliff says it’s so she doesn’t interrupt them later but sometimes Rick is just too restless. 

_‘Hey, my girl comes first.’_

_’So whadda I fucking gotta do to be your main girl then?’_

“Rick. Rick?”

“Hmm? Oh, shit. Sorry. Got distracted. So how do I do this?”

“Get a couple cans out of the cupboard. Don’t matter which flavors. I’ll take care of Brandy.” And with that, Cliff whistles and gets Brandy up on the couch who looked rather confused as to why Cliff was still in bed ordering her while Rick was the one getting the cans out.

“Rat flavor? Bird? Raccoon? The fuck you feed this dog.??”

“Good food. For mean dogs.”

“Well you’re buying the wrong brand because she’s a sweetheart.”

“Aww, you hear that girl? Rick says you’re not mean.”

“Arf!”

Cliff watched as Rick struggled to open the cans, cussing at it to hold still as it slipped off now and then. He also didn’t say anything when Rick went the long way around scooping it out with a spoon instead of dumping it in.

“No wonder this fucking takes you forever.”

“Everything takes forever when you’re about to pop off.”

“Sh-shut up.”

Brandy is starting to look restless, wondering why Rick is taking his sweet ass time and lets out a small whimper.

“Hey. No whining. Rick is doing his best, he’s just not used to doing this kind of work.”

“Prick. Alright, now what.”

“Dump some kibble on, there’s a bag under the sink. Then whistle her over once you set it down.”

There was more cussing as Rick rips the bag open accidentally and a good chunk spills out. Brandy starts swaying side to side, getting impatient at how inept Rick was at this. Finally Rick cleaned it all up and dumped it onto Brandy’s food and tried his best whistle. Brandy was so hungry at this point she went over despite it being a weak call.

“Fuck. That was rough. I’m shit exhausted.”

“Better go home. Last night with the wife, she probably wants to spend it with ya.”

Rick sighs softly and nods. “You gonna be alright ‘till morning?”

“Yeah. But shit, how am I gonna manage the store tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be here all day tomorrow.”

“But you gotta shoot someth-”

“I said I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Cliff knew that look. It was the look Rick had when he didn’t get the part. “So, you tell Francesca?”

“No. I’ll just say I got cut. Because that’s what happened.”

“So what was this whole I’m gonna go pack after wrap and grab us dinner shit then?”

“Shit, Cliff. Was just hoping to throw you off and surprise you in the morning. But guess we lucked out that I got cut, means you can rest and heal up and I can do the people talking since I know that ain’t your strong suit. But you better fucking heal up in the next couple weeks, I ain’t running this shit on my own during the Valentine’s rush.”

\---

Cliff tested his hip the next morning before Rick arrived, hoping it magically healed up. It wasn’t as bad but there was still some pain, so he just sighed and laid there almost helpless until he heard the door chime downstairs.

“Still sore. But it’s getting better,” Cliff answered Rick before he could even ask the question. “How was last night? Was the sex good?”

Rick snorts as he tosses the bag of bagels at Cliff’s chest. “Eat up you prick. Need me to feed Brandy again?”

“Yeah if you don’t mind.”

Luckily forever all three of them, Rick was quick at learning from his mistakes from the previous night, and Brandy was the most grateful out of all of them for that. Rick calls her over and carefully rolls on the bed next to Cliff, watching Brandy chow down as he leans his head on Cliff’s shoulder.

“Hungry?”

“I didn’t buy all of them for you, shit. ‘Course I’m hungry.”

Cliff smirks and spreads some cream cheese on half of one, tears off a piece and feeds it to Rick.

“‘Mmm ye know the right ratio I like.”

“Because you’ve bitched me out in the past about too much or too little.”

“But you learned. And I appreciate it. More please.”

“Ya know, I’m the injured one. Shouldn’t it be you feeding me?”

“Less talk, more bagel.”

Cliff kept it up until that half and the other half were completely gone. He looked over at the clock and still saw they had about half an hour until they opened. “Man. If the damn hip wasn’t killing me, you know what I’d suggest right now?”

“A little of this?” Rick starts gently palming Cliff through his boxers, to Cliff’s complete surprise as he’s always had to be the forward one of the two.

“Oof. Boy. Not exactly what I was expecting but I’ll take it.”

“It’s all you can take right now.”

“Alright. What the hell did you do with Rick Dalton ‘cause you ain’t him.”

“Oh, aren’t I? Eat your bagel, hon.” Rick lets his hand slip under the waistband and start giving him the skin on skin contact he’s been craving.

Cliff takes a deep breath trying not to turn into a moaning mess as he shakily spreads more cream cheese on his bagel. “I… fuck. Fuck, man. It’s been awhile.”

“Thought your hand be at it.”

“It has. I just can’t remember when we last had t-”

Rick takes Cliff’s bagel and takes a bite out of it. “You talk too much. So guess I can eat this then.”

Cliff laughs and just lets him have it. This felt all so ridiculous but at the same time, he’s been forever since he’s felt this kind of connection with him. Yeah, he and Rick and their quick encounters now and then but they often felt rushed and overshadowed by the thought of Francesca with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as she waited for Rick to come home. And even though yeah, there was a time limit as Rick had to get the store open soon, the Francesca factor being removed for the time being seemed to allow Rick to open up more and be playful about it all. And maybe this is the person who Rick really was but never got to show it in public, and it just made Cliff fall in love with him more.

Cliff tried to last as long as he could but it felt like he was done in seconds. Rick didn’t make any comment about it, just milked him for as long as he could while keeping his head nestled on Cliff’s chest while Cliff kept his arm wrapped around Rick’s torso, holding him close. Once Cliff felt he was all spent, he gently moves his hand to Rick’s head and wraps his fingers in his hair, lifting him so he could place a kiss on his forehead. “Thanks, man. I needed that.”

“Me, too.”

“So, uh. Think you could clean me up before the store opens?”


	6. The Most Stressful Day of the Year

Cliff was determined to make good on Rick’s threat to heal up before February came around. He spent all of his time in bed working on the books while he listened in on Rick downstairs, laughing and chatting it up with customers. That should be Rick’s job; he’s the salesman, the friendly smile that will want people to keep coming back who aren’t coming because they know he’s a celebrity. Cliff’s always been the behind the scenes guy and preferred it that way.

Rick went home that evening to wait for Francesca’s phone call that she had arrived safely, packed probably more than Cliff had altogether in terms of clothes alone, and made sure to bring along the essential liquor.

“Well shit, I think you might be taking up the whole dresser on your own there, partner.”

“I ain’t planning to do laundry often, alright?”

Cliff chuckles as he finishes the accounting for the day and just settles in to watch Rick put away clothes in his drawer. “Well if there is still room please put my stuff over there.”

There wasn’t.

\---

Cliff loved this queen bed now that his hip was better and every morning was spent waking up with Rick either snoring right next to him or curled up on his chest, arms wrapped around him. This is what those nine years should have been. Not nine years of pining and missed opportunities when both have admitted they were smitten from the start back in Italy. Now those nine years had to be boiled down to about five weeks.

Only once did Cliff catch Rick awake before him, about a week before Valentine’s Day. The amount of orders starting to pour in made Rick question his decision in being a two-man operation.

“Hey, darlin’. What’s eating you this early?”

“H-how the fuck are we gonna get these all d-delivered? With just the two of us?”

“And the orders will probably triple by then.”

“T-triple??”

“Then you got all those last minute husbands ordering.”

“Shit. I-I should say the cut-off date for pre-ordering should be the 12th.”

“You mean you haven’t listed a date to order by? Rick…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Fuck. I’mma make a sign about that today. Any last minute things they c-can just pick up something pre-made, shit. Goddamnit.”

“Find some kids willing to make a few bucks. It’s a Sunday, should be able to round up a few that ain’t interested in church.”

Rick groans and rolls on top of Cliff and buries his head in his neck. “Guess not much time to fool around this week.”

“Nope. Francesca picked the worst time to go out of town.”

\---

Running that storefront was all Rick now. Cliff rarely heads back out there unless Rick needed to take a break and usually made sure to when business was slowest. Cliff thinks he’s only maybe helped three customers this whole month.

Right now, Cliff was spending the week making sure the inventory was there to start working on building orders that were predominantly every shade of pink plus red and white. So far so good.

‘Hey, Cliff. Rick told me you were back here.”

Cliff looked up, a grin breaking out across his face. “Howdy, Jay. Long time no see.”

Cliff only met Jay a few times when he and Sharon came over while Cliff was recovering those couple months at Rick’s. It’s now been well over a year since he last saw him but it almost felt like it’s only been a few weeks.

“Holiday got you busy, huh?”

“Yeah. You here to get something for Sharon?”

“Well Roman’s out of town again so someone’s gotta keep her company on Valentine’s Day. I’m sure you’re doing the same for Rick.”

“Shit, I still can’t believe you figured us out. Even Rick couldn’t figure it out in all those years.”

“Takes one in a similar situation to notice, I guess.”

And that’s why Cliff remembered getting along so well with Jay. He got it. He’s been in Cliff’s shoes and still was. But at least Jay was his own name and could take care of himself while Cliff was a nobody who still needed Rick’s help to get by. “Think you’ll ever get with her?”

“Well, I’ve been in it this long. I ain’t calling it quits. And neither should you. I can tell where Rick would rather be when he comes over for dinners or parties. It’s with you and this shop, it’s all he talks about. Even more so than whatever project he’s working on.”

“That so?”

“Uh huh. He’s a different person without you around, you know? I’ve only ever seen him truly smile when you’re in the picture.”

Cliff wasn’t sure if he loved or hated what Jay was saying as it was all he’s ever wanted to hear but knowing Rick seemed miserable separated made it hard for him.

“Say, Jay. You’re wouldn’t happen to have an opening for a haircut this week, huh? It’s getting a little bit too long for Rick’s taste.”

\---

The whole week seemed like a manic blur. Rick was at least definite about the pre-order cutoff which meant Cliff could get started estimating how much help they would need for deliveries. If they wanted to get everything on time without overkill, they were probably looking at about-

“Half a dozen.”

“Shit.”

“Sure you don’t know anyone?”

“Well there’s a couple kids on Cielo who might be able to.”

“Yeah, but they got bikes or cars, that’s the difference.”

“Ah, fuck. What about Jay?”

“Could try. We gotta deliver him his flowers anyway, he could just take it and go.”

Rick sighed as he put his head down on the counter trying to rack around for more ideas. “What’s the minimum we could get by if it’s just non-stop?”

Now if Cliff could get away with driving at his normal speed, he’d probably say maybe him and one other person. But he had to treat these flowers like Rick and not destroy them in the process. “Three, four to be safe.”

“Well shit, I better start asking around then. How many bouquets you got done?” 

Cliff’s been taking his sweet ass time making sure each one was perfect. “Yeah, like five. Out of what, a couple hundred?”

“Guess this is what I fucking should have hired help for.”

\---

Rick lied in bed staring at the ceiling at about four in the morning, already a nervous wreck about the day ahead. They did manage to find about three high schoolers with cars through some neighbors willing to help out and Jay even offered to do a few since a large portion came from the Cielo Drive residents to help a neighbor out and he could easily do those. Cliff was going to tackle everything not in a five mile radius. All Rick had to do was manage the store and sell pre-made shit, that’s all. He had the easiest thing to do today. But then as soon as the shop closed up he’d have to rush home and catch Francesca’s call around six.

_Was it too early to start drinking?_

He opts for a cigarette instead, fumbling for his pack on the nightstand and lighting one up.

“Nervous?”

Rick nearly jumped when he heard Cliff speak. “Jesus, thought you were sound asleep!”

“Nah, I’m usually awake around this hour. You just sleep in late.”

Rick scoffs as he takes a drag. “So what, you just lie in bed until I get up as well, is that it?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Not much else to do. Don’t got my weights anymore. Could go for a run like I usually do but… don’t want to wake ya.”

“So you just watch me like a creep, is that it?” Rick was suddenly very self conscious as he knew he had a terrible habit of drooling or snoring, especially after getting shit-faced the night before.

“You’re not that interesting.”

_SMACK_

“Ahh, spousal abuse!” Cliff regretted those words as soon as they left his lips. “Oh, shit, fuck man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know I’m not your-”

“It’s fine.”

Cliff could tell by Rick’s sudden mood change that it wasn’t.

“Well, I wish I was, if that makes you feel any better?”

It didn’t. It just made it worse, and a sobbing Rick right before he needed to be at full attention to the shop more than any other day was not what Cliff needed right now.

“Hey man, how about I go grab us some donuts, huh? I’m sure they got some cute Valentines ones-”

Rick cried harder. Cliff could tell he wasn’t going to win this battle, and even Brandy woke up in concern. All he could do was just hold him and let him cry it all out, praying he’d be alright in the next couple hours.

\---

Rick watched as the big hand inched ever so closer to the 12 on the clock face, the little hand already at the 5. The kids they hired for the day were already paid. He offered a cut to Jay but he turned it down; said he was just glad to help out the two of them and gave a wink. Clearly Rick had no idea what the fuck that meant but he was too tired to care.

“And we’re clooooosed,” Rick says to himself, a huge wave of relief washing over him as he goes to turn the sign around. Cliff wasn’t back yet but Rick didn’t have much time to wait around if he needed to check in with Francesca in the next hour. He heads upstairs with the cash from the day, making a note to Cliff he can go ahead and count it when he hears a knock on the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed!” Rick shouts down from the loft. Another knock. 

“I said we’re closed!” Another knock.

“Goddamnit,” Rick mumbles as he heads down stairs. “I said we’re closed, now, I’m real- Cliff?”

Cliff stood outside the door wearing what was clearly one of Rick’s suits that happened to fit him, holding a bouquet of tiger lilies and morning glories he made last night after all the other orders were done. And his hair… cut back to the way Rick remembers when they first met on _Bounty Law_. 

“Hey. Got one last delivery for a Rick Dalton? Is he around?”

There were a lot of things Rick wanted to say. _Why the fuck are you wearing my suit? When the fuck did you have time for a haircut? Did you fucking pay for those flowers?_ But he couldn’t ask a goddamn question. “Y-yeah, h-he’s me.” As if Cliff didn’t fucking know it was him.

“Well these are for you. Guess you got a secret admirer.”

“It ain’t a fucking secret, you prick.”

“Gonna let me in? I kinda live here.”

Rick opens the door and takes the flowers, kinda relieved that Cliff made sure to use the ones starting to wilt so he couldn’t yell at him for using product. “They’re nice, thanks.”

“Sure thing, partner.” Cliff smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek. “Guess you better head on home if you don’t wanna miss the wife.”

“Yeah, guess I-I better. Money is upstairs. Count it while I’m gone, alright?

“Alright.”

\---

It was almost eight when Francesca finally got off the phone with him. She was delayed in calling as shoot went overscheduled and the call itself was more her gushing about the cast and crew and how wonderful New York was. Rick wasn’t use to being on the listening side of a conversation, and what was it he was starting to feel? Envy? Resentment? His wife was having the time of her life and getting the career he always wanted while he was stuck here regretting just about everything.

Rick almost didn’t want to drive back to the flower shop feeling the way that he did. But he knew as soon as he calmed down it wasn’t the booze or the pool he was going to need; it was Cliff. It’s always been Cliff.

As he pulled into the lot and headed behind the store, he swore he smelled barbeque. And there it was; Cliff at the grill, a small table and a couple chairs set up with the flowers Cliff gave him and a couple candles. Rick parked his car and just sat there staring at the set up.

“Hey, just in time. I figured you’d be a while so I didn’t start grilling until recently. Got some champagne, a couple sides for you to get started on. Some bread. Yeah. Steaks will be out soon.”

Rick just smiled and laughed softly to himself. How the fuck could he be envious of Francesca when he had Cliff. Even if it was only like this in secret.

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood with how good that smells, shit.”

“Yeah, well. Reservation is only for party of two. Go on, sit.”

Rick made himself comfortable, got started on the bread and nearly drank half the bottle of champagne before Cliff sat down with the place of steaks.

“Luckily I got a spare,” Cliff says, pulling out another bottle from underneath.

“You know me too damn well.”

They talked about the day. All the customers, any mishaps that happened (thankfully only two). Rick said the hired help was decent enough to ask again come Mother’s Day since that was going to be the other single stressful day coming up. Finally Rick got to the question he’d been waiting to ask.

“So when the fuck did you have time for a haircut?”

“I made plans with Jay when he was over. I stopped in at the house real quick and he let me in to grab the suit and he did it there. Hope you don’t notice any mess left in the bathroom.”

“Huh. Well. Now you don’t look like a fucking hippie, it was starting to get that way.”

“Says the guy who’s hair’s been that way since Italy.”

Well Rick couldn’t argue with that.

“So is there dessert?”

“Well… I didn’t have time to grab anything fancy so I just went and cleared out the donuts at the bakery. Sorry if they ain’t that fresh,” Cliff says as he pulls out the box of pink and white frosted donuts with their heart shaped sprinkles, clearly the rejected leftovers of the day with some frosting missing or smeared on a neighboring donut. All imperfect and beat up looking… just like the guy holding them.

“You know what? It’s perfect. Fucking perfect.”


	7. Dirty & Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I forgot I wanted to touch base on that makeshift shower in some way in a previous chapter, decided to briefly include it here but much like that chapter on Cliff's hip, shit I wasn't planning on doing takes on a mind of it's home and I'm pretty sure the heat spell we're having rn possessed me to write something with cold water, idk.

The two men had the foresight to close the shop up for the day on the 15th to take a break and go through inventory on how much got wiped out just from the previous week. And boy, was Cliff glad they did when he woke up that morning.

Cliff had more than just a spare, he had a whole case of champagne. Granted Rick was still responsible for consuming the majority but he had his more than fair share. When Cliff slowly roused and felt the entanglement of limbs around him, he knew something happened last night but couldn’t remember what. He peeked an eye open to see he was facing towards the couch, Brandy softly snoring as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. His eye then trailed down to see two sets of Rick’s clothing tossed on the floor, forgetting for the moment he had borrowed Rick’s suit for the night before.

_Oh. Wait. It was Valentine’s Day._

Cliff let out a soft ‘heh’ and half smile, wondering if Rick even came close to celebrating like this last year with Francesca. He tries turning his head back towards Rick, hissing as he realizes how stiff it had gotten from being in that position all night. Finally he gets it the other way around and is greeted with his handiwork of bruises and teeth marks along Rick’s neck and shoulders; suddenly feeling a bit worried he might have been too rough last night with… whatever happened.

Fuck. He needed a shower. As did Rick but he absolutely refused to shower in Cliff’s makeshift one, always making a point to take one if he had to call Francesca or even on his lunch break. What’s he afraid of, a lack of warm water?

Whether it was the hangover or not influencing his decisions this early, Cliff felt the best way of trying to wake Rick to get him untangled was to gently poke his nose repeatedly until Rick smacked it away in his sleep, muttering about ‘damn mosquitos, fucking pests’ as he tries to roll over only to be stopped by Cliff’s weight. Cliff ‘heh’s again before continuing his pestering, this time getting braver and licking the length of his nose before biting down gently on the tip, then hard.

“FUCK!!”

Cliff didn’t have to ask for Rick to remove his hold on him; the legs and arms came right off and he was bucked off like he was riding one of those mechanical bulls, falling off the side of the bed, landing flat on his back and laughing hysterically as Rick continued to cuss him out and hurl pillows at him. Oh, but he was going to be sore as hell when he got up off the floor, he could tell that was coming.

“The hell you think you’re fucking doing, biting my face like that? I need this to work, it’s the fucking moneymaker, and you just think you can go and just mark it up?”

“Well I hope you don’t look in the mirror because I think your face is gonna be the least of your problems if you gotta do a topless shot in the next week.”

Rick couldn’t see his neck but he sure as hell could see the damage done to his shoulders. “Ah, shit, Cliff. The fuck you do last night?”

“I honestly don’t remember. I think I’m at your level at hungover.”

“You can’t reach my level there.”

“Fair enough. I’m gonna shower, care to join me?”

“Alright.”

Now Cliff knew he had to be hung over. “Huh, I swear I just thought I heard you agree to shower with me.”

“I did.”

“In my shower.”

“Yeah.”

“Well. Shit. You must be more hungover than normal.”

“We gonna do this or am I gonna fucking change my mind before we get down there?”

Getting down there… was half the battle. Rick wasn’t as sore as Cliff was but he wasn’t exactly walking a straight line, nearly tripping down the stairs a couple times. Cliff was just hanging on the railing as he tried to keep himself stabilized. 

“Ya know, if we both take a nasty fall and can’t get up, what are they gonna say about finding two naked men lying at the foot of the stairs, clearly with some evidence of sodomy?”

“Goddamnit, Cliff. Shut up, I can barely concentrate on walking.”

“Your career will be over.”

“You’re so loud, shit. Shit… my head hurts, fuck.”

The obstacle of the stairs was finally cleared without incident as the two of them leaned on each other to the doorway to the nursery, stumbling through the curtain down the step. Cliff looked around trying to remember where the hell they put that shower, remembering of course it was in the way back and out of the way.

“Who’s fucking brilliant idea was to move your shower in back, Cliff??”

“You.”

“Well that was stupid.”

“Yeah, who other than you is gonna walk in on me naked during business hours?”

“I was helping a customer and needed to grab some flowers real quick, I had no fucking idea you’d be walking around wet and naked. What if I brought them back in here and they saw you?”

“And I thought me walking around wet and naked was the whole reason the sign by the door says ‘Employees Only’ to prevent those run-ins?”

Rick just grumbled as they finally reached the back and turned the corner to where Rick hid the shower. “Where’s the fucking knob?”

“It’s a hose, Rick. A hose.”

“You mean I gotta walk all the way back out to turn it on?”

“Hence why we originally set it up where we did. Here…” Cliff pulls over the beach chair he uses as support and sets it up under the hose, gently pushing Rick down into it so he doesn’t accidentally slip and fall when the water turns on. “Alright. Hang tight.”

Rick groans as he’s pushed back into the sitting position, not really sure he’s gonna be able to get up again as he watches Cliff disappear behind the corner. “Ya know, this is why we should have stayed at my fucking place. No. Stairs. Goddamn, could you imagine if I had a fucking two storied? I’d break my fucking neck, shit. And you wouldn’t b- FUCK! FUCKKK! TURN IT OFF! IT’S TOO COLD, SHIT. GODDAMN!”

Well if Rick wasn’t awake before, he was now. 

Cliff turned it off and couldn’t help but laugh as he turned the corner to see Rick just sitting there naked in the chair, eyes wide and grip tightening on the chair arms. “Ah. Here. Should of done this.” He takes the hose off the hook holding it up and has Rick hold it and point it away so he could turn it on again without taking him by surprise.

“Still too fucking cold.”

“Well spray me then, come on.”

Rick felt annoyed by Cliff’s dumb goofy grin and the fact he was just standing there, arms spread waiting for the water. Stupid, dumb Cliff. Stupid, dumb Cliff who he couldn’t resist.

“Hey now, partner, I see you changing that nozzle setting-” 

But Cliff took that hard jetstream to the chest with only a wince, relieved that Rick at least had the courtesy not to aim for the face. He turns around making sure Rick gets everything, emphasizing to Rick to make sure he aims for his ass which just promptly makes Rick change the setting to ‘off’. “Ah, you’re no fun.”

“Well fuck you, too. I’m gonna go home for a proper shower.”

“You ain’t driving right now in your condition. Come on, lemme just finish you off. And then I’ll finish your shower.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too.” 

Rick didn’t know how Cliff managed to close the distance so quickly to be right over him, lips pressed to his as Cliff’s knee dug in between Rick’s legs for balance. This prick, he went with that over the arm support on purpose just to rub him up! 

“Wait. I-I-I wasn’t, there w-was nothing to finish down, down th-there… oh god…”

Cliff took the moment while Rick was distracted to take the hose from him and set it to ‘mist’ and just lightly lets the cool water pool on Rick’s skin. It wasn’t long before he stopped focusing down there which Rick took as cue as he was going to have to just grind away (‘I gotta do every fucking thing around here!”) if he didn’t want to be left half-mast. Once he felt Rick had adjusted to the temperature better, he upped to the ‘shower’ setting it was originally.

“Can I get up or ya still humping me?” 

“Are you gonna take care of it?”

“A gamble you’re going to have to take.”

Rick let him go; Cliff grabs the shampoo and body wash, Rick suspiciously noticing that it was the brand he uses and not what Cliff usually smells like. “The hell you have that for?”

“Well when I planned for ya to stay the month, I included stocking up on your products just in case you got over yourself.”

Fucking Cliff. Always a step ahead of him. “Alright. Go ahead.”

“Go ahead with what?”

“What, weren’t you gonna wash me?”

“The hell I look like, your mom?”

Rick’s face turn bright red, feeling like he read this whole situation incredibly wrong. “I-I’m sorry, fuck, I-I thought with you, shit, I-”

“Woah, man. I’m kidding. If you want me to, I can. All you gotta do is say so.”

“I… yeah. Alright.” Rick still felt sheepish, made even worse by the semi-hardon. His mind was telling him to maybe make a break for it, just run away. Back to the pool. Nah, Cliff was right. He wouldn’t make it in one piece driving home. Not like this. Not like-

“Oh. Oh, fuck.”

“What, you gonna tell me to quit now?” Cliff had his fingers tangled in Rick’s hair, massaging his scalp as he lathered each and every strand with shampoo.

“N-no, just… holy shit, no one ever told me how _good_ that fucking feels.”

“You never wash your hair?”

“I-I meant by someone else.”

“Pretty sure you have at the barber shop, no? Hell even Jay offered but didn’t have time.”

For some reason, Rick didn’t quite like the idea of Jay washing Cliff’s hair. “Just g-go on.”

Cliff finished and rinsed it out, then got to work on conditioning it. He let that set as he got the washcloth full of body wash and started to work the suds around, being mindful of the bite marks in case it stung for any reason. “Think you could do me after?”

“I-I-I g-guess…”

“Well, it would be nice to return the favor,” Cliff purred in Rick’s ear as he washed Rick’s abs, rubbing a little bit harder the further he got down his happy trail. He could hear Rick’s breath hitch in his throat, which was his cue to stop.

“Wh-what, hey! You’re not done.”

“Well maybe it’s me but I ain’t too fond of the taste of bodywash on dick.”

It took longer for Rick to figure out what Cliff was implying than he cared to admit, but soon Cliff handed Rick Cliff’s preferred shampoo and conditioner, knelt down between Rick’s legs and got to work on fixing Rick’s situation. Rick’s hands were shaking and moans coming freely as he sprayed Cliff’s hair with the hose and started shampooing. His fingers tightened in the other man’s thick locks each time teeth scraped something sensitive.

“Keep that pace up and you’ll blow before you even get to conditioning,” Cliff mutters around him.

“Stop and I ain’t rinsing it out.”

Cliff chuckles and hums as he feels Rick suddenly pick up the pace as if worried that threat would make Cliff stop on purpose. He paused for a moment to let Rick wash it out and then waited for him to start conditioning before he upped his pace as well.

_Well. I don’t think either or us were picturing this when I thought he’d finally use the shower._

_But._

_It was worth the wait._

Somehow Rick managed to get Cliff’s hair fully lathered just in time to grab and pull it as he came hard in the back of his stuntman’s ( _fuck, he’s not even that to me anymore_ ) throat, completely spent and slumped in the chair, wondering just what the fuck these past 24 hours have been anyways. Cliff continued to hold him in his mouth until he went soft and Rick rinsed both of their hair out, reminding Cliff he needed to finish washing the rest of him.

“My tongue didn’t do a good enough job, huh?” But Cliff finished as asked, scrubbed himself down since Rick looked like he was gonna pass out at this point, and tried drying Rick off as best he could. “Maybe you should just take the day off to rest, alright? I’ll work on inventory.”

“Nah, I’ll help. J-just give me a moment to settle, alright?”

“Alright.” Cliff dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He didn’t feel like climbing back up stairs just to get clothes when he was already down in the nursery. A scan of the place told him they were definitely depleted in the roses department. The carnations also took a hit. Well, all they had coming up in the next month was St. Patrick’s day so hopefully no one’s gonna be looking for anything like that.

“Say, Rick. Do you happen to-”

Cliff knew he didn’t need to bother finishing the question. Rick was already passed out and snoring in the chair, towel covering him like a wet blanket. He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head at the situation.

“Yeah, you settled down alright, partner.”


	8. Scraps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm almost at the end? Might just be one more chapter to go unless something derails again.

It was almost an immediate drop off after the Valentine’s sales back to the kind of business Cliff was managing on his own last fall before the holiday season rolled in. But he wasn’t going to complain as it meant a less stressed Rick meant more time he spends with Cliff instead of the books. Again, Cliff found himself cursing Francesca for taking a gig at the worst possible time, leaving them only about a week and a half left together.

Rick had run out of clean clothes and Cliff had run out well before him so they made a run back to Rick’s house after the closed up shop for the evening. 

“Maybe we should have done this yesterday. You know… when we actually took the day off?”

“Francesca made call plans for Tuesday, would have been easier to just kill two birds with one stone.”

“Fair enough.”

Cliff couldn’t remember when he was last at the house. Well over a year, probably more since he’s never stopped by this whole time they’ve been in business. He knew why; this home was no longer theirs but his and hers, and from what Rick was telling him when they started down this new trail together, seemed like it was gonna become all hers.

And it definitely was unrecognizable for Cliff, as gone were the simplistic bachelor feel of its design now given that woman’s touch it had been missing. White walls were now bright yellow, the furniture green, and gone were the movie posters that now resided at the shop to be replaced by, and Cliff had to laugh, paintings of flowers. Whether Rick had any input or not, Cliff was almost afraid to ask because if it had been all Francesca’s idea, then he’d be wondering if Rick really got into gardening on his own or because she told him to, and thus, influenced the flower shop idea. And the last thing Cliff needed right now was to feel like there was absolutely nothing the two of them shared without Francesca’s fingers on it.

“Guess we’re gonna have to do dinner here with all the fucking clothes we got to go through.”

“Pizza sounds good. I’ll get started on the laundry then; open your garage door, it will be easier to just bring it all in through there.”

The garage definitely was a lot more crowded then when Cliff last saw it, mostly of Rick’s memorabilia that didn’t make the cut to be displayed at the shop but he still didn’t wish to part with. Even some of the old furniture made its way in there; Cliff had noticed there was now a proper dining table and chairs in the house so the tiny square table and two chairs Rick had near the side door were now gathering dust and cobwebs out here near the washer. How many quick breakfasts did they have at this set when Cliff was trying to rush Rick out to set for the day? Feels fucking forever ago.

“Shit, these could probably fit in the loft. Better than eating all our meals in bed.”

“Fuck. Why the hell didn’t I think of that sooner?”

“I don’t know, when were you last out here?”

“Shit, probably.... Goddamn, well over a year. Francesca does all the laundry, although she says I should try doing it for fucking once. Probably will now that she’s all fucking famous and I’m now the housewife.”

“Hey… being housewife ain’t so bad. Trust me. Best job I ever had.”

“Yeah, but you’re not- ah, shit, never m-mind.”

Rick didn’t need to finish that sentence, Cliff knew he was getting at. Cliff felt like the housewife sometimes with Billie when he let her run all over him, doing all the work at home while she was out blowing what little money they had. 

“Right. Quality of the job depends on the employer.”

“I’m gonna go order pizza and call Francesca. You gonna be alright out here for a bit?”

“Seeing as I’ve been in far worse situations, I’ll say yeah, I”m gonna be alright.” Cliff flashed Rick his half grin and got started on pulling the laundry bags in. He estimated three loads for Rick, one for himself. Although if he was honest, he could easily spread what he had in with Rick’s, and he’d rather do less loads as it meant less time feeling like an outsider in a place he once considered a second home, and so Rick doesn’t decide to get comfy in the pool and refuse to leave.

After he got that first load going, Cliff set to work dusting and cleaning off the dining set. Rick could probably leave half of this clothes at home anyways since he only needed less than two weeks worth now and they should be able to fit this in its place, but maybe after having dinner out here as Cliff really didn’t feel like stepping back inside.

Cliff got the next load changed over when he saw the headlights of the pizza delivery car pull up. Rick might still be on call with Francesca so he pays and tips the guy for him, dumps the pizza on the table before making his way back in to see Rick’s status and grab some beers for them.

“... why, th-that’s great honey. No, no. I-I’m excited to see you, too…”

Cliff couldn’t help but raise an ear to the conversation as he tries to be discreet as possible so Francesca doesn’t pick up any sounds in the background.

“... Uh huh…. Uh huh… Sure. I can do that…”

After grabbing the booze and making sure he’s in Rick’s line of sight, Cliff gestures as best he can to indicate dinner is here.

“Yeah, sure… great. Listen honey, dinner is here. I need to get going…”

And that was Cliff’s cue to get out the door before he had to hear any form of ‘I love you’ out of Rick’s mouth. When he got back to the little set up, he realized he forgot plates but ah, what the hell. They’ve been eating in bed all this time, they could do pizza without plates.

“So how’s the wife?”

Rick took a deep breath, puffed up his cheeks and blew the air out through tightly pursed lips. “She’s coming home Friday.”

“Huh. So a week early.”

“Yeah. They had to reorder scenes or some shit because of a weather delay and it meant moving her stuff up.”

“Well it’s Tuesday so… gives us a couple days.”

“Right.”

Cliff could sense it. Rick would always put his head down when tears were starting to form and he didn’t want Cliff to see. “Well let’s eat, alright? We can figure it out over some hot pizza and a couple of cold ones.”

“I… I-I’m n-not hungry a-an-anymore.”

And Cliff knew what Rick needed right now, so why deny him that. “Go on. Go relax in the pool. Still go another couple hours to go anyways.”

Rick just nodded without looking up and turned and nearly ran back inside. Cliff sighed, looking down at the pizza and realizing his appetite wasn’t there either. And he knew that not only was a week cut off after finally getting time to relax in this business they had together, but Rick’s mood was gonna be fouled the whole time. Now Cliff knew Francesca wasn’t doing this on purpose but, goddamn, was it ever starting to feel that way.

“Hey, man,” Cliff says, looking upwards at whatever celestial being was running this joint, “if this is all payback for Billie, then fuck, I think I’ve paid it off and then some by now.”

\---

It was Friday morning. As predicted, Rick’s mood soured any possible enjoyment Cliff could have had with him. Even lying in bed together for what might be the last time in the foreseeable future had some kind of tense atmosphere around it. Cliff felt it was only a matter of time before the powder keg blew.

“It’s not fair.”

Cliff cracked an eye open and looked down at the top of Rick’s head, which was already partially buried under his chin. “Hmm?”

“That I had to turn out ot be a fucking faggot.”

Oh, god. Not this again. Rick brings this up so many times that Cliff practically eyerolls every time he does now, as he caught himself doing at this moment. “Look, man. There ain’t nothing wrong with that, alright?”

“It’s not fair that I-I gotta be careful and shit, tip-toeing around so I don’t destroy my already f-floundering career. I hate this, Cliff. I mean, I don’t hate Francesca, she’s n-nice and all. But I-I don’t think I can keep this up for much longer. I don’t even know if she even fucking l-likes me or if it’s all an act as well just to get into Hollywood. And well, shit, she’s already a-accomplished more than I-I ever did.”

“Then get a fucking divorce, man.” 

Rick was a bit taken aback by Cliff’s tone. He’s only ever heard it twice before in situations where Cliff had just about had it with someone, but he never heard it directed at him. “I c-can’t.”

“And why the fuck not?” Again, with that tone.

“A-are you m-mad at me?”

That was the wrong question for Rick to ask. Cliff had to stop himself from spitting out everything all at once as he knew that might damage Rick to the point of no return.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wh-why?”

_Oh, where do I even begin?_

“Rick. You got to swear to me, and I mean swear, that everything I’m about to tell you isn’t because I hate you. No, it’s quite the opposite, alright? Even if it’s hard to hear, I don’t hate you, alright? I don’t hate you.” Cliff felt he was talking to a child but shit, he knew how Rick worked inside and out and how personal he takes the slightest thing.

“O-o-okay.”

Cliff did a mental checklist of everything he wanted to say, took a deep breath, and rolled the dice.

“I don’t want to hear you complain about how shit ain’t fair when I am still at your mercy. Yeah, you’ve been a great help, I won’t deny that. Shit, I’d probably be dead in a ditch somewhere since I’m unemployable at this point. So no, I’m not mad that you gave me job, I’m thankful every fucking day. What’s not fair is that you get to try to keep two lives intact, as much stress as you find that to be, when I barely have half of one. You’re all I got, Rick, and I have to still share you with someone. You’re always gonna have someone in bed with you at the end of the day; I’m not. This damn queen is either going to have you by my side or be an empty reminder that I’m just someone’s mistress when his wife’s out of town. You’re one of the most self-centered people I’ve ever met, Rick Dalton. But if I hated you for that, I probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a couple years stunting for you. But no, I learned that that’s just who you are, ignorant and all but shit, who am I to judge for character flaws? Once I got past that and just accepted that that’s who you are, well, I found a rather amazing partner underneath. I don’t know how many other people are willing to do that for you, but I was. No one is ever going to care for you more than I do, Rick. No one is ever going to put that much work into you. And I just keep taking whatever scraps you throw my way because you’re all I have, but really Rick, you’re all I want. Still. And like some damn dog I’m still going to be here waiting every day until you finally decide what you’re going to fucking do about it.”

Rick didn’t reply, but the lack of tears was a good sign. Cliff honestly didn’t expect anything to change after all that but the release of finally being able to get that all out in the open felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. So even if nothing came out of this he was at least glad for that.

“Hey. It’s our last breakfast before she comes back today. Want to go out? Want me to make something and we eat in bed? Or just bring in some bagels or donu-”

“Cliff?”

“... Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

That was it. No elaboration on what he was sorry for, but an ‘I’m sorry’ from Rick Dalton that wasn’t about his self aware fucking up was a rarity in itself.

“I know you are. Now shit, I’m starving. So how about them bagels?”


	9. “This Whole Fucking World...”

Cliff couldn’t sleep that first night after Francesca came back. He had gotten so used to Rick being there that the empty space in the queen felt larger than when he first got it. There was no point in trying again the second night, verbally bargaining with Brandy to switch with him so he could have the couch, as if she could even comprehend in the slightest why he wanted it so badly.

“Thanks girl,” he mumbles part to her, part to himself as she slowly jumps off the couch and onto the bed, circling a couple times before making herself at home. Cliff did a quick brush off of her fur, tossed his pillow on one end and a couple thin blankets on the other. All it did was make him feel more bound in the narrow space instead of giving him room to stretch out, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that it really wasn’t the extra space that was bothering him anymore. It was just the plain old fact that he was alone and the one he was falling asleep with these past few weeks was once again doing so with someone else. 

“Hey, Brandy? I think I’m in love.” Again, not that she comprehended what he was talking about, but even if it’s to a dog, finally saying it out loud to someone else felt like it cemented what both he and Rick knew for a while now.

“Yeah. I sure as hell ain’t sleeping now. Alright, darling. Move on over… might as well be comfortable if I’m just gonna lie awake all night.”

\---

Around mid-March, Rick managed to get a few guest spots lined up, and Cliff wondered if Rick even made an effort to find any roles while Francesca was out of town or just told everyone he couldn’t do it until then. Either way, Cliff was back to spending most of the day at the store by himself, Rick only stopping by a couple times a week and their meetings far more business like than ever before. Cliff didn’t know if Rick was doing it because he was secretly upset about what Cliff told him or doing so he didn’t feel tempted to do anything unprofessional with Cliff. Either way, Cliff went along with it as he felt if they did keep fooling around it was gonna just be harder each time to keep letting him go home.

Cliff didn’t have any customers at the moment and decided to get a head start on some of his after-hours work. It was only a couple days away until St. Patrick’s Day, and while it wasn’t a booming flower holiday like the previous month, the shamrocks and leprechaun items were still selling on bouquets and he hoped there was enough stock to make it through without needing to reorder. He was in the back-room when he heard the familiar bell of the door opening chime, right in the middle sorting through some plastic rainbows.

“Hey, I’ll be out there with ya in a sec!” he called out towards the front.

“Take your time, Cliff. I’m in no rush.”

Oh shit. Cliff knew that voice anywhere.

“Oh hey, Francesca. You can, uh… well if you want something cold to drink there’s some in the fridge upstairs.”

_Well that was stupid. Telling her to go right to the scene of the crime._

“Yes, I was going to ask if I could wait upstairs. Looks like you have a few customers coming this way anyways. I can wait.”

_Great._

“Yeah, sure. Just tell them I’ll be out there in a moment.’ Cliff took a deep breath as he heard the bell of the door ring, sat the boxes of merchandise down and heads out to help once he’s felt calm enough, ignoring the fact he might be walking into a trap in a few moments.

As soon as Cliff was sure it didn’t look like any new customers were coming in any time soon, he heads upstairs and finds Francesca on the couch, Brandy’s head in her lap and receiving all the attention.

“So she still remembers you, huh?”

“Oh, yes. I owe her my life. Well you, too. But she was at least there to comfort me after it all happened unlike- well, that’s why I came to see you. To talk about Rick.”

 _And here it comes._ “Alright, what about?”

“I… I think I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well look, Rick is a good guy, alright? I don’t think he’d be into another woman when a fine creature such as yourself was-“

“What, Rick is in love with another woman?”

“Huh, isn’t that what you- oh, shit. You said you were in love with another woman- I mean man. Sorry, man. Right?”

Apparently Cliff might have unintentionally struck a pipe on this one with how quite and reserved Francesca suddenly got. “Oh, hey. Look. I swing both ways, it don’t matter to me what you’re into.”

“Like how you don’t care Rick isn’t exactly into women?”

“Woah, hey, I don’t know his personal preference. He’s never discussed it. To be fair, I haven’t seen him shown interest in anyone in the nine years I’ve known him except for, well…”

“Don’t say ‘you’ Cliff Booth unless you mean you yourself. Rick never looked at or talked about me the way he does about you. You know that. I think anyone with two eyes and a brain knows that. And I’ve seen you look the same. Even back in Italy, it was obvious but marriage to Rick offered me a new opportunity just as I’m sure it offered a cover story for whatever lifestyle it is he wishes to cover up. But I don’t think I can keep it up much longer. I got what I desired when I first came here, but now I’ve found what I needed. And maybe I should let Rlck have what he needs as well.”

This was a lot to take in. Maybe it was because the most experience he had with a wife was one who berated him constantly and told him what a worthless piece of shit he was. Now he always did say he didn’t hate Francesca but even now he felt he never gave her enough credit. “So what, gonna ask for a divorce then?”

“I think so, although I feel he would still be a sobbing mess even if that’s what he’s also been hoping for.”

“Yeah. Sounds like you understand Rick pretty damn well.”

—-

A couple days later was when Rick was planning to come in for his weekly check-in with Cliff. Cliff didn’t know if he would even show up if Francesca came clean first; he knows Rick doesn’t deal well with any kind of rejection, even if it’s one he’s been hoping for. Well if Rick dealt with it awhile ago instead of letting it hang around, he could have been the one doing the rejecting. But then again, maybe Francesca would just let this whole charade continue for whatever reason. Who the fuck knows?

Rick was supposed to come in around closing time, but it was now well past six. Sure Rick is often late but usually that was in the morning. It was nearing seven when Cliff decided he might as well just head upstairs and start fixing dinner for Brandy and himself. Around eight, Cliff was concerned enough that maybe he should consider calling the house to make sure Rick didn’t drown himself or some manic shit. He was about to reach for the phone when he heard the sound of a car screeching into the lot, and Cliff didn’t even have to look over the loft wall to know that it was Rick. He still went over there anyways to watch the other man get out of his car and unlock the store door.

“Kinda late there, partner,” Cliff called down to him. “Everything alright there with the wife?”

Rick stood there looking up at him, half irritated but also a sense of relief in his voice. “You fucking knew. You f-fucking knew she wanted a divorce, huh?”

Cliff just shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I mean, it’s what you’ve been wanting, right? What we’ve been wanting?”

“Yeah, but, shit. Still hurts. I-I-I mean, what’s this new guy got that I ain’t got, huh?”

“Well. Probably fucks her, for one thing.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Also… maybe has breasts? I’m not too sure. Don’t quote me on that.”

“No fucking shit? Goddamn, imagine if all this time…” Rick ‘heh’s to himself and then just starts laughing at this whole thing. “Goddamn, _goddamn_ , maybe this whole fucking world is queer and we ain’t just don’t know it because everyone is too damn scared to say a damn thing.”

“So you gonna get your ass up here and give me a kiss or what?”

Cliff didn’t think he’d seen Rick grin as hard in the longest time. Or move as fast as he did running up the stairs and into Cliff’s arms, giving him the hardest kiss and tightest hug that he could muster. Rick is the first to pull apart, still laughing softly and shaking his head in disbelief. “Shit. I can’t believe it’s happening.” 

“Is she getting the house and half your money?”

“Nah, nah. We both are gonna be civil about this whole thing. Hell, she’s making more than me these days. So yeah. Place will be all mine again in about a week or so. Then I guess that means- that is, if you want to.”

“Move in?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess I could. At least Brandy would have more room to stretch her legs.”

“Also we could fucking finally turn this loft into a proper office instead of doubling as your living quarters.”

“If that’s the case…” Cliff throws his head in the direction of the queen bed. “What are we gonna do about this ol’ girl here?”

“I don’t know, get rid of her? Don’t really need it at my place.”

“Won’t seem right if she doesn’t stay.”

“Cliff, it takes up about a fucking third of the space. I was hoping we could get a-an office desk or something.”

“Come on, Rick. You know you’ll miss her.”

Rick growled a bit but he knew Cliff was right. That queen has been with them since the store opened and, well, they’ve survived this long managing their finances in bed. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. But that dresser and all your boxes get moved out.”

“And that’s where you replace it with the office desk. Easy.”

“That’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“You know what else is a tight fit?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cliff. D-d-don’t finish th-that.”

Cliff laughs and pulls Rick in for another kiss, letting his hands roam over Rick’s back and up his chest until he pulls away with a sly grin. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Well. I said Francesca might be leaving you for someone with breasts, but ever since Italy it does kinda look like you-”

“Fucking finish that sentence and you can forget about moving in.”

“I mean, maybe that’s why she went for you in the first place.”

“Prick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don’t have much left other than a time jump that I’ll just make as an epilogue, but seeing how things have gone, who knows how long that will be.


	10. "Fuck Bigots"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done. I'm still don't know why this went on as long as it did as I certainly was not expecting it to. But thanks for sticking with me.

**August 1973**

It’s been well over two years since Rick and Cliff had settled into what has become their normal routine in life. Everything with the divorce went smoothly and Francesca remained in touch.when she moved to New York. She never talked about her partner, and seeing as there was no mention of her in the tabloids showing off her new man, Cliff safely assumed he was right. After all, he knew better than anyone what it’s like to try to stay in the shadows to avoid the queer gossip.

Rick was still continuing to take guest spots which he minded far less now as it let him focus on the shop. He even went as far as saying to Cliff he was thinking about just retiring from acting on more than one occasion, usually following an audition he thought went poorly. But then that thought went away once he landed a gig not long after. 

As for Cliff, he couldn’t be happier. Well he could, as he was keeping his eye on the news whenever something about marriage equality was on the news. After that Minnesota couple’s case of being denied a marriage license got dismissed by the U.S. Supreme Court last year and Maryland becoming the first state to pass a statute banning the marriage of same-sex couples, Cliff didn’t want to admit he felt his hope slowly dim. But he of course wasn’t going to show that to Rick, who was oblivious to the news as he had too many other stressors on a daily basis to pay attention. And for now, Cliff just hoped to keep it that way.

“So you th-think they’ll like them?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“They could go to a-any fl-flower shop. They don’t need our shit.”

“Hey, now. You think Jay and Sharon only did this because they are our friends? I mean, Jay’s been getting stuff from us all the time. Hell, he ordered that giant bouquet right after Sharon and Roman’s divorce went through, and who orders a divorce bouquet that huge just for the hell of it?”

Rick smiled, feeling a little better. Jay and Sharon’s wedding was the first celebrity wedding they would be providing flowers for so of course he was nervous about how they would look on camera. “Yeah, I guess so. Shit, can’t believe they’re finally going through with it, after all the obvious pining and hanging around Jay was doing.”

“Funny how you didn’t notice it for nine years when it was me doing it.”

“Because I didn’t think I had a fucking chance.”

“Well babe, you still do.”

\----

Cliff had casually mentioned Wayfarers Chapel to Jay back when they were searching for venues, saying how it reminded him of something out of a fairytale, ‘once upon a time’ and all that kind of shit. And to Cliff, Jay’s journey definitely felt like some story he read out of a book as a kid. ‘Hey, you guys will get your happily ever after, too. I know it,’ Jay told him. Cliff only wished he could feel that confident.

But now here they were, Rick and Cliff driving back down towards Palos Verdes to Wayfarers for the first time in nearly three years, car loaded with extra caution. Cliff flipped the radio on and smiled hearing it was in the middle of that new song he’s grown fond of over the last few months.

“Hey. It’s our song.”

“I don’t know why you think this is our song.”

“Well, it definitely feels like it applies pre-Italy. _Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses?_ ” Cliff starts singing along with the rest of the song as Rick just rolls his eyes and looks out along the freeway until they get off in Torrance and make their way down towards PCH. 

“It would be fucking faster if the freeway actually extended further down here.” 

Cliff sensed an agitation Rick didn’t have the last time they came down this way. “Sure, but you don’t like the coastal cruise without all the traffic congestion?”

“I just… I-I just want to be done with today, alright?”

“Wedding ain’t starting any earlier if we get there faster.”

Rick’s growling and fidgeting in his seat was a sign Cliff was walking on dangerous territory, and it’s best to not be driving when, not if, he blows. Cliff turns off PCH onto Palos Verdes Blvd, finding a Vons lot he could pull into and stops the car. “Alright, partner, what’s the matter?

“Cliff, we’re gonna be late.”

“No we ain’t. But I’m not about to head up the hills with you about to get all manic with me. Now what’s wrong?”

“Cliff…”

“You mad they’re getting married and we can’t?”

Rick is trying to fight back the tears, scared that if he even talks the dam will break so he just nods.

“You been following the news?”

Rick nods again but tries to get out a reply. “Wh-wh-what if C-California i-is next?”

“Then we go somewhere where we can.”

“N-no state will ever allow it, Cliff. It’s n-n-never going to h-happen.”

“It will. Maybe not in our lifetime but it will.”

“Yeah, that ain’t fucking going to help us, huh?” Rick presses his head to the window and rolls his face into the glass, as if Cliff was ever going to judge his crying at this point. “Let’s just deliver the flowers and go home, I-I-I can’t do this.”

“Rick, they’re more your friends than mine, you can’t skip.”

“Watch me.”

Now it was Cliff’s turn to roll his eyes. These dramatics were nothing new and most of the time Rick’s threats don’t go through but Rick Dalton is always just an unpredictable powder keg of emotions.

\---

Cliff sat alone in the back pew of the chapel. Rick continued to be stubborn and stay in the car while Cliff had to carry the flowers in by himself, lying through his teeth when he ran into Jay and Sharon on separate occasions that Rick was in the car being emotional about them getting married but would be out once he’s no longer red. Well, the first part was technically true; the last part is a toss up.

_Damnit, Rick. Please don’t make a fool of me._

Checking his watch and seeing it was five minutes until start time, Cliff had settled with the fact Rick wouldn’t be making an appearance today. Hopefully Rick at least rolled the car windows down so he wouldn’t find him with a heat stroke after.

“Th-this s-seat taken?”

“Man. A flair for the dramatic waiting until the last minute.” Cliff stands up and lets Rick in, knowing it will be better in the long run if Rick starts breaking down again for him not to be on display along the aisle. “What changed your mind?”

“I know, I-I’ll regret it. And they wouldn’t fucking f-forgive me. And you wouldn’t forgive me.”

“Probably shouldn’t swear in the Lord’s place.”

Rick just laughs and shakes his head and looks over the program, smiling at the picture of Jay and Sharon on the front. “They’re better together. I’m glad it all worked out in the end.”

“I’m just glad Jay doesn’t have to keep giving excuses why he’s there all the time. It gets draining, as I would know. ‘We’re just roommates until I get back on my feet.’ Hard to keep telling people that after ‘bout two years.”

“Yeah…” Rick feels his hand shaking, itching for a cigarette right about now, any way to calm his nerves. He nearly jumps out of his seat when he hears the music start, grabbing Cliff’s hand out of instinct then quickly dropping it when he sees everyone is starting to stand and by default turn their direction. Rick knew they weren’t there to look at him, judge him for just grabbing another man’s hand, judging him being alone with another man. He knew that, but his mind was trying to tell him otherwise, because when the fuck ever did anxiety attacks feel like happening at the best time?

Cliff could tell Rick wasn’t going to make it. He let Sharon and her parade go down the aisle, thankfully managing to get her attention and show that indeed Rick was there so he could say he wasn’t lying later, but after they got to the front and the preacher started addressing the crowd, Cliff gently proceeded in removing Rick from the chapel, thankful that he didn’t put up a fight or start complaining he could do it. There was a bench nearby that was close enough so he could at least listen in to the ceremony but hidden enough for him to just hold and let Rick cry on him until he got it all out. And it took damn near the entire service as by the time Rick finally was dried up the guests were starting to exit the chapel and head towards the reception hall.

“Want to say congrats and then head home?”

Rick shakes head vigorously, wanting to not bring any more attention to himself. “I-I ruined their day.”

“You did not. You made their lovely flower arrangements.”

“But I left…”

“They’ll understand. You still got to be a part of their day in some way. And maybe if they’re lucky, they’ll have some cake left over.”

“Heh. Maybe.”

\---

Rick was gently awoken after falling asleep on the ride home. Except… this wasn’t home.

“Why are we at the shop?”

“Because. You’re a mess and I don’t need you worrying about running into them when they get home.”

Rick grumbled a bit and looked around to see Brandy in the backseat. “Huh?”

“I actually stopped at your place to grab her. And some clothes, in case you feel the need to hide out longer.”

“I won’t. J-just tonight, maybe. When I feel like talking.”

“Well I’ll open up, you can just stay here and I’ll collect you in a bit.” Cliff opens the door and clicks his teeth for Brandy to get out, heads around back and disappears. Rick sees the light in back and eventually the loft light filters in from above. He thinks nothing of it until he realizes at least twenty minutes have passed, and he didn’t know if he should be mad that Cliff left him stranded or worried maybe something happened.

“Fuck, shit.” Rick scrambles out of the car and locks it up manually, heading around to the back door and opens it up to find… flower petals? “What the…?”

The trail of them headed down the hall towards the loft staircase, and he followed it up until he found Cliff after the top, still in the suit from the wedding but with one of Rick’s flower crowns on his head and the Jake Cahill bouquet in hand. “Hey, partner. Took you long enough.”

“Prick, you said you’d come collect me.”

“And I’m surprised you waited that long. But seeing as we’ve been waiting a long time…”

Rick eyes widen as he watched Cliff get down on one knee, a little awkwardly as he chose the wrong leg to balance on with the hip wound that flared up now and then, and it only occurred to him how the petals and the crown and the bouquet suddenly felt out of place. “C-Cliff, wh-what are you d-doing?”

“Look man. I ain’t got a lot to offer you given we’re both guys and for some reason society decided that that shit is looked down upon. But hell, I didn’t have much to offer Billie other than a good fuck and look how well that turned out. That said, you're different from her, different than anyone I’ve been around. You honest to god might be the only person on this earth who doesn’t look at me like I’m a fucked up, good for nothing, piece of shit. I know you say that of me all the time but I don’t know if you ever realized I feel the exact same way. And while yeah, we joke that we’re kinda already married and I know you actually want to someday if we can, then consider this me asking you if you wanna some day. For reals. Yeah?”

This might have been the absolute worst marriage proposal Rick’s ever heard of, bringing up the dead ex-wife and reminding him they technically can’t get it done. And yet, it was completely and authentically Cliff’s way of doing it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? The hell you think I was crying about all day? Of course you prick, of course I’ll fucking marry you if those assholes will let us. Shit, get off the ground, don’t want you fucking up your hip again.”

Cliff laughed at the response as he slowly got up and stumbled a little bit onto Rick. “Well, I just borrowed the bouquet and flowers for show, and I ain’t got a ring. Like, I said, not much to offer.”

“And yet you’ve given me far more than anything I could have asked for, desperado.”

“Heh, I knew you liked that song,” Cliff says, going in for a hard kiss as he sets the bouquet on the nightstand followed by the flower crown, pulling them both down onto the queen bed. Rick finally breaks away to catch his breath, smiling harder than he has in weeks since he last got hired. Fuck, he was handsome when he smiles like that.

“Well, this has been a fucking emotional day.”

“Try emotional past dozen plus years.”

“Shit, I- goddamn, it’s really been that fucking long?”

“At least. Man, we’re getting old.”

“Too f-fucking old to ever see marriage quality happen, huh?”

“I…” Cliff wanted to say they will, but even he can’t fake that kind of optimism. “Well, I won’t lie and say we will. But even if we can’t, that doesn’t change what we at least have right now, does it? You, me, Brandy, this flower shop and this damn queen bed. Just a non-traditional family with the same amount of love as a normal one. Don’t need much else, don’t need a damn piece of paper to make us any more valid than them.”

And for the first time that day, Rick felt Cliff’s words finally get through to him. There really wasn’t any reason for them to be considered less than. Hell, Cliff and Jay more or less had parallel stories. “Well, fuck those bigots then.”

“Yeah. Fuck bigots.”

“And fuck hippies.”

“Rick… I think you need to look up the definition of bigot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I guess that's a way to end pride month more or less. And sal_paradise did our own little fix-it wedding for them in ACNH you can check out here, as well as some flower crown pride art I did earlier this month. Enjoy and happy pride!
> 
> https://wildglitterwolf.tumblr.com/post/622026404265066496/i-went-harder-for-the-wedding-items-than-i-care-to
> 
> https://wildglitterwolf.tumblr.com/post/620841525123891200


End file.
